


Oh my god, they were husbands—the encore

by venom_for_free



Series: Oh my God they were husbands [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oblivious Otabek, Romance, Sequel, They are married, Things will go down, Trans!Yuri, Yuri just had his coming out, modern day America, they are in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 49,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Otabek hadn’t known silence could be so loud. Deafening. The entire room was quiet, and he wanted to scream, just to make it go away. Just to fill the ‘nothing’ with ‘something.’ Next to him, Yuri was panting. Brave, headstrong Yuri, who finally dared to yell his truth into the world, even if the world screamed insults and hateful messages back.__or: Part three of "Oh my god they were husbands", Yuri and Otabek deal with the fallout of Christmas and an entirely new set of challenges. They grow both as a couple and as individuals, but their path is long and rough.finished, updates on Tuesdays
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Oh my God they were husbands [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971376
Comments: 331
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, darlings.  
> I am so glad to bring you the last installation of "Oh my god they were husbands." Welcome to part three, the encore.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as the first parts, lots of love from me and Taedae, who is still one of the best people I know and my partner in crime.

Otabek hadn’t known silence could be so loud. Deafening. The entire room was quiet, and he wanted to scream, just to make it go away. Just to fill the  _ ‘nothing’  _ with  _ ‘something.’ _ Next to him, Yuri was panting. Brave, headstrong Yuri, who finally dared to yell his truth into the world, even if the world screamed insults and hateful messages back. But this wasn’t Otabek’s place to speak. He was supposed to take care of Yuri and support him, so he kept quiet. As did the rest of them. 

For a while, everyone stared. Medina shifted next to them, but only to try and stand even taller. She was obviously bracing herself for a storm she shouldn’t have to face. No fourteen-year-old should have to doubt their parent’s love over this. No one should, independent from age. 

Yuri sighed when still no one spoke up. “I am trans. And I am happy with it. Otabek knows, and so does Medina. And before you ask, they both support me. I have been trans my whole life, this isn’t new, and it is not a phase. It is who I am. I am a trans, gay man. And now you can stop pretending to like me for who I am. You can stop and act like your love is unconditional, take your gifts, and crawl back home. I don’t expect support from you. We don’t.” He looked at Otabek to confirm, who nodded once.

The silence after his second statement hung over them like a veil, dark and heavy. It seemed to filter and numb sensations because  _ this  _ couldn’t be it. Silence couldn’t be the answer to all of Yuri’s fears for the last few years. 

Finally, Ekaterina cleared her throat. She looked at her son, tilted her head to the side, and tried on a smile hanging on her face like a terribly mismatched Halloween costume. “That is …  _ great _ , honey.” 

Great. 

Otabek heard a million different things in the way she said that word. None of them matched the verbal statement. 

Great. 

Yuri’s lip twitched into a forced smile, just for a second. “Thanks, mama.” 

Great. 

Medina squirmed next to them, and Otabek licked his lips. He dreaded what was lying between this moment and him, inevitably pulling Yuri into their bedroom to shield him from the assault just waiting to break free. 

Great. 

It was fucking great when Alexander got up, walked to the coat rack to grab his clothes, and left the apartment without a word of goodbye. It was great when Otabek’s parents suddenly decided they forgot to check the safe in the hotel, and what if the room service opens it now? No, they have to go back and check. It was great when they tried to take Medina with them, who clawed her way out of their father’s determined embrace. 

Great. 

Ekaterina was the only person left in the room. Her smile was strained, coiled tight around lies and uncomfortable thoughts. But she was still here. And when she couldn’t take it anymore, when her bottom lip started to wobble, and her tears broke free, she extended her arms towards her only child. 

Yuri catapulted himself into her embrace. 

Things weren’t good, but they hadn’t expected them to be once Yuri decided to pull through. Otabek hadn’t expected such a calm response. No one screamed. Everyone just left. Most of them, anyway. It was the Russian wedding all over again, only this time, it wasn’t Yuri and Otabek running but vice versa. 

Listening to Yuri’s sobs, barely muffled by Ekaterina’s sweater, Otabek clenched his hand against the unfairness of the world. 

Things weren’t good. But they were  _ great _ . 

\----------

  
  


Otabek watched the little snowflakes dance in front of their big glass windows. Earlier, they had fallen in big chunks, dipping the outside world into a haze of white fog and bustle. Now, the flakes fell steadily, no longer clumping together. Next to him, Medina shivered, so Otabek adjusted the fluffy blanket covering the girl. She sighed in her sleep, head nuzzling into her improvised pillow, Otabek’s thigh. While his hands gently massaged her back, Otabek raised his eyes to look at Yuri. 

His Yuri, who was slumped over on the sofa, fighting the need to close his eyes. Yuri, who bravely peeled his heavy-looking lids open again and again, just to stare at his mother. Ekaterina seemed similarly exhausted. She blinked every few seconds, too, trying to make sense of everything. 

“So, you are a boy.” Yuri nodded to confirm what he had explained to her a few dozen times, trying new words and phrases whenever the old ones proved to be ineffective. It wasn’t that Ekaterina didn’t want to understand him. It was that she had no concept of the things going on. She understood the term,  _ being trans _ , but it had no real meaning to her because she struggled to grasp the hidden reality that was living in the wrong body. “You are a boy, and you were born in the body of a girl, but you feel like a boy.” Yuri ticked his head down again. 

It had been like that for a while now. At the start, she even asked how he would know he was gay. He was a woman loving a man; where was the problem? To his credit, Yuri explained to her in the easiest and kindest words he could find that this was not how those things worked. At some point, she asked if he would like to have the body of a boy. Yuri didn’t admit to the binders and his packer. Still, he did tell Ekaterina about the fitness program, the meal plans, the clothes, and hairstyles. 

She struggled visibly, but Otabek could easily see she made an effort to understand the alien world that crashed down on top of her. It was heartwarming. It was bone-chilling.

Medina had received half a dozen calls from their parents, asking her—and then eventually ordering her—to come to the hotel. She let all of them go to voicemail. Otabek refocused on the sleeping bundle on his lap again. She was so … special. His sister, the good one of the bunch. Maybe, Otabek had to reason with himself, maybe Ayana would understand. Or Batima. But the other four? He could picture Danata’s face. She’d spit out words like venom, cold and acidic, trying to burn through every good thing they had managed to build over the last years. Otabek wouldn’t subject Yuri to that. He would rather not speak to his sister at all. Sisters. Plural, if it was necessary. And his parents, even though it hurt. 

“And you never want to have kids?” Yet again, Otabek’s eyes wandered across the room to his husband, curled into his mother’s side. 

“I never said that. We never said that.” 

For a moment, Ekaterina went quiet. “But you said you want to be a man.” 

“I am a man. I can still want children.” 

“Men can’t birth children.” 

“There is always adoption.” 

“But Yurochka, your body is young and healthy; why would you want that?” 

“Because those kids deserve a chance, too? Because I don’t want to be pregnant? Because it would make me feel incredibly uncomfortable and Otabek, too, I guess?” Yuri looked over, so he tried to nod as quickly and assuringly as he could. For most of the conversation, Yuri hadn’t needed or wanted Otabek’s help. It was apparent Yuri had rehearsed what he’d say if it ever came to it. But right now, Otabek had the rare opportunity to support his partner, so he eagerly jumped at it. 

“A family doesn’t mean we have to be related by blood. Yuri isn’t my relative either, blood wise, and I love him more than anyone else.” 

“Him.” Ekaterina sighed and looked at her child. “I don’t think I can call you that yet.” 

“Why not? It is just a word for you. For me, it’s the entire world.” Otabek knew Yuri was pushing it now. To put a pistol on someone’s chest like that was a lot already, but doing so with the only parent that stayed to at least listen to his story was borderline crazy. Still, there Yuri was, asking to be seen, demanding to be taken into account as he carved his new and yet familiar space into this world. 

She stared for a while until, eventually, she nodded. “I can try. But you aren’t allowed to judge me if I mess up.” 

“I am allowed to do whatever I want, mama. I am an adult and—”

“Юрийым. She agreed. She will try. Okay?” 

Yuri swallowed. He looked at his mother, began to nod softly, and then returned his eyes to Otabek. “Yeah. Of course. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just so … used to fighting people on the matter.” 

Ekaterina’s hand dropped onto his thigh. The small, somewhat understanding smile on her lips made Otabek warm. It couldn’t thaw the frost everyone else put into his heart when they abandoned Yuri, but it was a step in the right direction. A tiny bit of safety in the hurricane that became their lives. 

“So you  _ do  _ want children?” 

They exchanged long looks. Uncertainty. Resolution. Hope. Fear. Certainty. Happiness. Worry. Both of them went through a hundred emotions so quickly strung together; it was as if they bathed in all of them at once. But eventually, they confirmed. “We don’t know yet how. Or when. But we do. And we will find a way.” For the first time that night, Yuri smiled. 

\----------

“Am I allowed to hate my parents now?” 

“Why would you? Your mom stayed. And your father left, but he didn’t say anything yet. Maybe it will be … Yeah. No, forget I said anything after ‘ _ he didn’t say anything yet’.’ _ ” 

Otabek couldn’t see the movements of Yuri’s head, but the pillow shifted. It was dark enough to hide even the faintest schemes around them, not just because it was the middle of the night, but because they had pulled their curtains closed, too. 

Yuri didn’t plan to participate in  _ the next day _ , but Otabek refused to let him bury himself even further in a cocoon of blankets and instead climbed into the bed with him to hold his husband. It was a lot, without a doubt, but what kind of partner would he be if he allowed Yuri to drown in self-pity? 

“Am I allowed to hate your parents now?” 

“You don’t need my permission for your feelings. But technically, they didn’t say anything either. Just … Yeah.” Okay. Maybe he wasn’t really eloquent or helpful right now, but it was 4 AM, and Otabek was a mess. His brain was a scrambled egg, no matter how hard he tried to keep it together. 

“So, I am allowed to hate no one?” 

“Exactly.” 

“That’s bullshit.” 

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules.” 

“You literally do. Just did.” 

A small smile forced itself onto Otabek’s lips, and he pulled Yuri tighter against his chest. “In that case, the rules are _‘no self-loathing,’_ _'no_ _focusing on the bad things’,_ and _‘more kisses for Beka’.’_ ” 

“MORE kisses for Beka? I feel like he is getting cocky with that. He is already getting all the kisses in the world; does he really need more?” 

“Obviously.” 

“I think he is spoiled.” 

“I think you are right.” 

Yuri laughed and nuzzled into Otabek’s chest. “He is also the best, though, so I guess I have no other choice but to abide by this terrible new role. Where do you want your kisses?” 

“Lips are just fine?” 

  
“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

A hand sneaked over his abdomen, tracing the muscles there, and Otabek startled a little from the unexpected touch. “Are you sure you only want them on the lips?” 

How was Yuri even possible? How could someone be sad and horny at the same time? In the dead of night? Otabek pulled his husband’s hand back up and kissed it. “Yeah. On the lips. Let’s focus on the rest tomorrow.” 

So Otabek received a ridiculous amount of kisses on his face, two on his shoulder, three on his neck, and eventually had to reprimand his husband, who only giggled and turned around to be spooned. Once he curled around the lithe body, Otabek stared into the darkness. Even though it was heavy, it didn’t feel threatening. As long as he and Yuri had each other, they would manage. With or without their parents. 

When hips rolled against him, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts, Otabek smacked Yuri’s thigh. He giggled and finally fell asleep. Otabek listened to Yuri’s breathing evening out before he finally allowed himself to succumb to sleep. Somehow, they would manage. 

\----------

Medina brought them breakfast in bed. She was the cornerstone of this family now, Otabek decided when he peeled his eyes open, and there was fresh halva with caviar and black tea. 

Yuri looked a little disgusted with the fish eggs, but he was polite enough to eat them anyway. Probably because Medina prepared them. Otabek was fairly sure his dishes wouldn’t have gotten the same loving treatment. Or maybe he was just an ass to his husband, who tried really hard. 

In any case, it was funny to watch Yuri’s face move around in confusion. Otabek struggled to read his expression. Still, he was pretty sure it wasn’t anything good. Which made him eating more and praising Medina just that bit cuter. 

She smiled at both of them, then walked to the door. “I’ll be in the living room playing with the kittens. And I would like to test the new sound system. That is okay, right?” 

Otabek was about to tell her, _ ‘no, he actually would like to explain it to her first,’ _ but Yuri elbowed him. That was when he registered Medina’s grin. This girl was an angel and a devil, and Otabek wondered how his cute little sister had gone from a curious, blushing little thing to  _ this  _ within a year. 

The answer turned in his arms, nibbling his neck as soon as the door was closed.

“Really?” 

“Yeah? It is Christmas morning, after all.” 

“Exactly. Shouldn’t we spend that with Medina?” 

“She seemed to be very busy.” 

Otabek had Yuri’s teeth on his throat, lips stretched into a grin around them. “Did you orchestrate this?” 

“No. But I admit, I welcome it.” 

Well. What else was he supposed to add to that? Otabek sighed and pulled Yuri on top of himself. “What does my king want today?” 

“I wanna ride you.” 

“You are aware it is called  _ ‘silent night’ _ for a reason?” He grinned and grabbed Yuri’s ass, who immediately began to rut against Otabek’s body.

“Yes, and I  _ was _ silent all night. But it is morning now, and your sister is in the living room with an expensive, fancy, new stereo system, and those terribly pretentious gifts have to be good for something, right?” 

“I’m not sure that was the intention of my parents when they bought it.” His hands wandered up Yuri’s spine, pulling him into a hug before Otabek took hold of his hips again. Fingers snaked around, caressed him, and toyed with the strong muscles. 

“You are just trying to sound modest, but you want this as much as I do.” 

“I’m not sure about that.” He smirked, a soft expression only for Yuri. Otabek failed to get the cockiness in that was his husband’s trademark. 

“Oh yeah? Let’s test that.” Yuri climbed off his lap and was already halfway out of the bed when Otabek grabbed his hips and pulled him back. With the smile of a winner, Yuri returned to his throne on his husband’s lap and grinned. A personified Cheshire cat. 

“Stop being so smug about it.”

“Start being open about it.” His hand fell between his knees and traced over the bulge he found there. Otabek had no way of hiding how much he wanted Yuri when he was sitting on the evidence, literally. 

“You are such a wild thing, Yuri Altin.” A smile, and Yuri’s teeth were back on his sensitive skin. 

“I’m a wildcat.” 

“Yeah?” Yuri rolled his hips to prove his point, and Otabek started to feel lightheaded. “Okay, yeah. You are.” 

They didn’t have a lot to pull off, a ratty shirt too small for Otabek and too big for Yuri from the latter, and a pair of pajama pants from the former, some underwear, and soon they were naked. About to fall into a flurry of kisses again, Otabek tugged and pulled Yuri’s hips one way and the other. Pushing up as he chased the warm, loving body he would soon get to ravish, he didn’t register the noise until Yuri stilled on top of him.

“What? Are you okay?” At least Yuri was smiling, so that was good, but he also looked … conflicted? “What is it, жаным?” 

“The door.” Otabek looked to the side, but the door was still shut. Where was the problem? But then, he heard it, too. Hidden under layers of music from the stereo was their doorbell. Someone came over for breakfast. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 1:  
> Yuri opens up about being trans. Their families leave, but his mother stays. They try to talk it through. Medina supports them where she can. Just when they accepted that they won't hear from their parents again and decide to celebrate Christmas their own way, the doorbell rings.

There were a few times in his life when Otabek was truly uncomfortable. When he mistook the girls’ changing room for the boys during his junior skating time and a bunch of giggling teenagers tormented him for half a year. When he was fourteen and got lost in the woods because he was too proud to take proper safety measures and his family had to come and get him. When Potya stared at him while she pooped for the first twenty times. Or when he met the feline and, in a heat-induced delirium, she started to grind against his crotch, getting both of them messy in the process. 

Right now was another one of those times as he sat there, stared down by both his own parents and Yuri's. Technically, Otabek knew, they weren't even staring at him but at his husband. But the scrutinizing gaze raised the hair on his neck just the same . Maybe they had established a soulmate bond. Maybe it simply was that strong. 

Otabek wondered why they had come back at all. Obviously, everyone was highly uncomfortable. Did they actually care about their family in some weird twist of events? Maybe even about Yuri and his mental health? He doubted it. It was more likely to be a continuation of the silent battle between the families. At the end of the day, though, Otabek didn't care. They were here and they were trying, even though it was not the most relaxed experience for everyone. 

He wasn't so surprised Ekaterina had managed to convince Alexander, but Otabek had not counted on his own parents to making an appearance. Usually he would have suspected Medina to be the driving force behind that, but she'd been with them all night. So they actually made an effort on their own, lo and behold. 

The first half an hour of breakfast was quiet and tense. The air around them seemed to buzz, Yuri bobbed his knee the entire time, and Medina dropped her knife twice. Their parents were seemingly not in any better of a state. At least they had enough food for everyone, even though Yuri and Otabek struggled to eat since they had their first breakfast in bed. 

Almost thirty minutes passed until finally, Alexander cleared his throat. Ekaterina elbowed him in a way that didn't even look like it was meant to be discreet. He took an open-mouthed breath. Eventually, he addressed his son. "So … you're a boy." 

Obviously thrown off guard, Yuri's ears pinked. He sat up just a little straighter and nodded. "Yes." 

"But you're … a girl. Right?" 

Yuri bit his lip. That would be a long conversation. At least with everyone at the table, they wouldn't have to have it twice or three times. "My sex is female. My gender is male. Being trans means my assigned sex doesn't align with my perceived gender." 

"What does that even mean?" 

That was Otabek's chance to help. He knew Yuri was sick and tired of explaining the basics, and later on in the conversation he wouldn't be able to add much, so he felt compelled to do so now. "Sex is often but not always split into female and male. It describes the categories people are grouped in depending on a combination of their internal and external genitalia, their chromosomes, their hormones, and their secondary sex characteristics, like breasts or facial hair. To make it simple, sex is what you're born with between your legs. Your gender is your internal sense of your own identity or the degree to which you feel masculine, feminine, neither, or both." 

"There is neither? Or both?" His mother looked shocked, but Otabek nodded calmly. 

"Yeah. For some people, it's fluid." 

"Because they don't want to decide!" 

"Because they can't. And they don't have to." Otabek stared her down. This wasn't a topic he would give her any room to argue. "Being transgender means your gender identity is different from the sex you were assigned at birth." 

"As with Yuri because she feels like a man?" Ekaterina was trying, he had to give her that. 

"As with Yuri because  _ he is _ a man." The squeeze to his thigh was filled with gratitude and encouragement. 

"He doesn't dress like one." 

Next to him, Yuri hissed at Otabek's father, reminiscent of a cat. Maybe a lion. "I don't have to! I don't need to pass to be valid!" This time it was Otabek who squeezed his thigh in silent support. 

"Pass?" Ekaterina tilted her head, so Otabek helped with a small explanation. 

"People determining a trans person's sex as their identified gender. Or … differently, when Yuri goes through his life and people consider him to be male at first glance." 

"Well that won't happen with the long hair and nail polish." Was Otabek dreaming, or did his father's remark lack any bite?

"Why not? A bunch of manly men have long hair and wear nail polish. My gender expression is my decision. I don't care about a society’s idea of masculine or feminine." 

"How can you know you're trans, then?" 

"How can you know you aren't?" They stared at each other. Neither seemed ready to budge. 

"But Yurochka. Maybe you just feel a little … boyish right now because you have a husband now and want to be like him, and—" 

Yuri cut his father off with a glare. "It's not a phase. And actually, it's not new either. I've always been like this! Which is why it never worked with other suitors! Otabek is gay, and I'm trans, and when we found out—" 

"OTABEK IS GAY?" Alexander looked as if he wanted to back away and get closer at the same time, presumably to press Otabek's face into the dirt. 

"He's married to a man. He loves me. He's attracted to me. Sounds pretty gay to me." 

"Oh to  _ you.  _ He's attracted to  _ you _ . Ah, yeah. I see." Alexander's gaze softened. Had he expected Otabek to want other men? Did he think his gayness wasn't real because to him Yuri was a woman? Whatever it was, it made him look much calmer again. 

"Well, yeah. And I'm a man." 

Alexander nodded, then turned to his son-in-law. "What do you say to all of this?" 

"I knew. I knew from the day we met. I'm very proud of him." 

"You knew?" Ekaterina's voice was small. 

"Yes." 

She turned to Yuri. "So you trusted a stranger more than us?" She couldn't hide the hurt in her eyes, even though, to her credit, she tried. 

Yuri took a deep breath. "I wish it was different. I wish I could have trusted you to tell you and—" 

"We support you." Alexander's gaze was strangely steady. He looked determined in a way Otabek didn't understand. "Yesterday you said you wanted to see who were the best parents. I don't ever want you to doubt that again. You'll always be my little girl, Yurochka. But … I support you." 

Otabek had to bite his tongue, swallowing down numerous suggestions about how choosing the right language could be step one. He was so busy trying not to say the wrong thing that Alexander's words only registered a moment later. Yuri's family supported him. Otabek didn't understand why or how they planned to do so, but he squeezed Yuri's leg. 

_ Look, Юрийым, the world can be good. _

Then, something happened that Otabek wouldn't have expected to occur in a million years. His parents  _ nodded _ . "We support you, too, of course!  _ And _ our Beka!" 

Was this for real? Were they turning this into a competition? Really? The way Ekaterina huffed made it look like that. Shouldn't she feel gratitude about people supporting her child? 

Yuri gave him a weirded-out side-eye. Apparently, he felt quite similar. 

\---------- 

"So what is … the next step?" 

Yuri blinked at his father. "What?" 

"The next step. You came to America for a reason, didn't you? And all those months you barely talked to us and the hair cuts and uni and—" 

"AND HAVING OTABEK COOK!" 

Half of the time, he couldn't believe his own mother. "Ana! I cook because I it, not because Yuri wants me to! And Yuri cooks a lot, too!" 

"How … progressive. A relationship between two men and both cook." It took a lot of effort to miss the snippy undertones from his father's comment. 

"No one’s forcing you to be here." 

"Oh, please," Otabek's mother inserted herself. "The Plisetskys manage, so we will, too. After all, it’s their daughter who—" 

"Son." Otabek expected that correction, but not in double-tone, as mother and child spoke in unison. It warmed Otabek's heart to hear Ekaterina's soft voice along with Yuri's determined one. 

“Oh, please. Are we supposed to—”

“Yes.” Otabek gave her a long look, not at all interested in the end of that sentence. Whatever came next wouldn’t be of value, he guessed. “Now that you know, we expect you to address him the way he wants to be addressed. As I said. No one is forcing you to be here.” She huffed but looked away. It embarrassed Otabek to see Yuri’s parents try and his own being stubborn and refusing to go the extra mile, even though it meant almost no effort for them. “This is Yuri’s home. I want him to be happy. Medina managed. Why can’t you manage, too?” 

“Because it is unnatural!” 

Yuri shook his head. Slowly. Holding steady eye-contact. Otabek wondered what had made him so tough, so powerful, so steadfast over the last few years. “No, it is not. The green frog reverses its sex in response to various external factors, clownfish can change their sex when no female is nearby. Five lionesses in Botswana have been observed growing manes and acting like male lions, including mounting females and killing the cubs of others.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It literally does. Things occurring in nature without any external influence mean they are natural. And if that isn’t enough, we can get down to the hormones and chromosomes, and I can show you exactly why being intersex, being trans, struggling with your gender and sexual identity and other things along those lines are natural.” 

They glared at each other. Eventually, she looked away, and Yuri straightened his back, not without visible pride. Otabek rubbed his shoulders, trying to ease the tension he could feel radiate off of Yuri. 

“So we are supposed to call you  _ ‘he’  _ now?” Alexander was obviously uncomfortable, as was Otabek’s father. The two men seemed to want to run away, rather than discuss this. 

“Yes.” 

“And do you want us to buy you … I don’t know, sports gear now?”

“What?” 

“Well. Now that you think you are—”

“He doesn’t  _ think  _ he is. He  _ is _ .” Otabek held the gaze of his father-in-law. 

“Now that you  _ are  _ a man—”

“I’ve always been a man. I just never spoke about it openly.” The way Yuri approached the conversation made Otabek wonder if he was aiming for some kind of explosion. And his own comment probably hadn’t helped to ease the lingering tension. But the language their families were using was unhelpful and not at all respectful, so Otabek decided to stand with his husband and their point. Either they accepted it or they could leave. 

Alexander sighed as if adjusting his words took a mental toll on him. Of course, Otabek knew it was just a symptom of the actual  _ ‘problem’ _ —his transgender child. But neither him, nor Yuri as it seemed, were ready to allow their parents to turn this into their narrative. “Now that you have always been a man, do you want to continue all this art stuff? Wouldn’t something more … masculine work better?” 

“Work better for what? For whom?” 

Yuri’s father shrugged and looked at Otabek, obviously lost. “I don’t know. Do you plan to work?”

“I always planned to work.” 

“In the arts?” 

“In the arts.” 

“But you won’t earn any money with that.” 

“That never bothered you when you thought I was a woman.” Let alone was it not true. Yuri rarely painted at home, but when he did, his work was beautiful. Otabek hadn’t been surprised at all when he learned that Yuri started to sell his work at a pretty appropriate price. Sure, he wasn’t getting rich off of it, not  _ yet _ , but Otabek saw so much potential in his partner, he had no problem imagining it for the future. 

The following silence was tense. In the end. Alexander turned to Otabek yet again. “And you are really okay with this? I know Yuri was a woman when you met her, but—”

“No, he wasn’t. And Yes. I am very much okay with it because I am  _ still  _ gay and  _ still  _ proud, and I love my husband the way he is.” Otabek wasn’t sure why he had to keep explaining that to everyone.

“Well then. Go ahead and do your …  _ thing _ , I guess. Just … maybe … don’t talk about it to the rest of the family.” Oh, wow. What a sucker-punch. Otabek flinched, but Yuri remained unmoved, a solid rock in the middle of a storm. 

“Yes, papa. Oh. And Viktor and Yuri know.” 

It was Ekaterina now who huffed. “Oh, of course they do. I should have known Viktor is involved in this! I bet he turned you—” 

“Don’t! Just don’t!” Yuri glared at her, all the effort from yesterday night in vain now that he stared into the face of the comment his mother wanted to make. “Viktor has nothing to do with this. If anything, he was the only one giving me support. THAT is the reason I was so hurt when he left for Japan. Or rather,  _ had  _ to leave for Japan, as I learned recently.”  The Plisetskys had the decency to look ashamed. “I am glad he left, though. For him. At least he gets to be himself. Just like I did when I came to America! I just wish … I just wish I could have been  _ me  _ with you around. Not in hiding, with you too afraid for the world to see. I wish we could have actually been together. But we couldn’t, and I accepted that truth, so please, accept mine, too!” 

Another long, uncomfortable silence. Otabek stared out of the window, but today he wasn’t lucky enough to get to watch snowfall as a distraction. So he closed his eyes and focused on his other senses, desperate to escape the situation in one way or another without actually leaving Yuri alone. 

Heavy, agitated breathing around them. The couch pressing into him, giving way at the same time, too soft after years of regular usage. They would have to buy a new one. The scent of coffee lingered in the room, along with the caviar and something bitter in a different way. Kittens crawled around the floor, chasing one another on unsteady feet as Potya purred on Yuri’s lap. She was desperate to try and calm her human. Medina’s hand was on his thigh, touching the outside, holding him in the one way she could right now. Time dragged on. He opened his eyes again and watched dust swirl in the little light that broke through the clouds. 

Finally, a little whimper broke the silence. 

Ekaterina sniffled into her hand, eyes on her son. Yuri held her gaze without any warmth. A soldier ready for battle, ready to fight whatever life would throw at them. She sniffled again, then extended her hand to her son. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself around us. I can only speak for myself, Yurochka. But I’ll try to be better.” 

The silence in the rest of the room was suddenly even louder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo. There is that. More drama with the families. 
> 
> How is everyone doing? It's almost "drama with the family" holiday in America, so I hope you all get through the season well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 2: The families come over for breakfast and the atmosphere is tense. They try to get a grasp of the situation but struggle to further their understanding of the topic. There is a lot of misconception and prejudice. Otabek and Medina stand with Yuri. In the end, Ekaterina apologizes to him, but the rest remains silent.

They didn’t invite anyone over the next day. The only person still around was Medina, who refused to leave their side. Otabek caught her on two occasions looking up boarding schools. He loved the girl with his whole heart and the entire chest around it. Yuri was still tense, almost skittish in the way he moved. Being continuously brave the day before had been exhausting. Not just during breakfast, but also during the shopping trip their families were suddenly eager to go on. Maybe because it was hard to talk to each other, surrounded by flocks of people. Otabek held Yuri’s hand and did his best to guide his husband.

Once in bed, Yuri deflated like a blow-up doll, crumbled into himself, and curled his lithe body around Otabek. He held him. Or wanted to be held. It was not entirely clear but it didn’t need to be. They both needed the comfort. 

That night, they fell asleep to soft whispers and gentle touches. Kittens surrounded Yuri, and even though things were shit and they might have lost huge parts of their family, they still had each other. 

When they woke the next morning, Medina announced that she’d like to spend the day with the kittens, playing with and training the little floofs, while the other two should take their brand new car and go to their brand new weekend house and just spend some time without responsibilities. The idea sounded so good, Otabek immediately stuffed Yuri into the vehicle and grabbed a bunch of necessary keys before they were off. 

Only when they reached their destination did they realize the full extent of the ridiculous gift. The house was larger than their apartment, without a doubt. It wasn’t a weekend residence, but a smaller villa in the suburbs, surrounded by green and a lot of space. There, right in front of them, was the perfect place to raise children. Yuri grunted angrily when he realized, too. Not because they didn’t want kids, but because yet again someone was pushing for them. And this time, it was  _ his  _ parents. Just because they chose a more subtle medium didn’t mean they weren’t still trying hard to convey their message. 

When they entered the building, they noticed another problem. There was no furniture. Of course there wasn’t. Otabek wasn’t sure what he had thought when he decided to bring Yuri here. But now they had driven all the way, and Medina was with the kittens, and Yuri looked like he was about to cry for probably a million different reasons. 

“Hey there.” Otabek wrapped him in a gentle hug. “I’m sorry all of this is shit. I thought it couldn’t get worse after last year, but …”

“You think it’s worse than last year?” Big, watery eyes trained on his face, and Otabek swallowed everything he wanted to say and kept quiet until Yuri continued. “I know it’s shit and it’s a lot, but last year … it was shit and I still had to be someone else. This year … at least I get to experience all of the crap as myself. And even though it is still crap, it is …” 

“Different.” Of course. How could he not have seen the huge difference it made to Yuri? “Do you want to stay here for a bit or go back?” 

“Since we are already here, we might as well take in what we have been given, right?” 

That made sense. Otabek hugged him and kissed his head. “You are so smart. Do you think we should hire someone to equip this place?” 

“You know I am an art major, right?” 

“What does this have to do with anything?” 

“Never will I let someone else paint my canvas. It might take me awhile, but I want to do this on my own. With you, of course, but not with some fancy interior designer. I want to take you and our friends and go to yard sales and second-hand shops and get the coziest, weirdest things. I want tiger print rugs and leopard-print blankets and zebra curtains. Not in the same room, of course. Or maybe … no. That would be crazy. Or would it be?” Yuri looked at him with a new fire in his eyes. “I’ll have to take pictures and send them to the others.” Why was it so hard to resist Yuri when he was like that? Otabek smiled and kissed his partner, long and slow and steady enough for Yuri’s crystal eyes to become fogged and heavy. Once they broke apart, Yuri smiled almost lazily. Then, he spun around and stalked off, no doubt taking pictures of everything he found. “You’ll check this part of the house and later, we switch?” Otabek nodded. Giving them room to explore on their own was probably a clever idea because if they didn’t, they’d just get lost in each other. 

With a steady pace, Otabek looked through empty room after empty room, already excited for all the things Yuri would point out to him later. His eye for detail was so much better. 

There was one thing, though, that even he couldn’t miss. The giant bathtub. The bathtub to rule all bathtubs. The bathtub big enough, Otabek was sure they could both sleep in it without having their knees poking out. Holy shit. Yuri would love that. Otabek sighed. Okay.  _ Think.  _ What exactly could he do right now to make the best of the situation? 

Within minutes, he yelled to Yuri not to go to that part of the house and to wait for him, before he left his confused husband behind and hurried to the car. There was a supermarket nearby, his phone had shown him the route, and Otabek had an improvised list of necessities. 

Bath bombs. Towels. Lube. Candles.  _ Oh, don’t forget the candles, Altin. _

Did the cashier stare at him with judgment in her eyes? Yes. Did he care? No. He had a husband to take care of. Close to the register, he grabbed some chocolate and a small bottle of sparkling wine. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed another. The cashier’s gaze was even darker, but Otabek didn’t care. None of this demanded an explanation, but if she wanted to judge, she could. He leaned forward and whispered, “It’s for my husband.” 

He didn’t wait for her reaction. After all, Yuri was probably getting antsy. Telling him he wasn’t allowed to do something was basically the direct way to him doing exactly that, so Otabek was aware he had to return home  _ fast  _ or his surprise wouldn’t be a surprise anymore. 

\--

When he unlocked the door, Otabek knew he was too late. Yuri was pacing in front of the large window opposite the entryway. "Beka!" He rushed over and half-jumped Otabek in his excitement. "Oh my God! Have you seen the—" 

"Bathroom? Yeah. I have." 

But Yuri drew back, looking confused. "The bath … wait, what? No! The bedroom!" 

Oh. No. He hadn't seen the bedroom. "I didn't yet, what about it?" 

Yuri relaxed his hold on his husband until he was standing again, then grabbed Otabek's hand. "Come with me, I'll show you!" The moment Yuri wanted to rush off, though, he noticed Otabek's bag. "Is that for me?" 

"No, it's for us. Now go ahead and run to the bedroom, but after that, you'll have to wait for another moment. Okay?" Yuri nodded enthusiastically. He had one goal in mind and he followed that. Otabek was pulled along. Damn his strong, small husband.  Yuri had more strength than he seemed to at first glance. 

Once they entered the bedroom, Otabek understood immediately why Yuri wanted to show him. There was a giant walk-in closet and indirect lighting built into the ceiling. A big window gave way to a view across the garden, which was filled with flowers and fruit this time of the year. He mentally calculated a price for the house, even though he hadn't wanted to. Otabek added a good chunk of numbers. 

"It's … beautiful." 

But Yuri barely listened to his mumbles. "This wall? It's going to be a giant art piece. Rainbow colors. Maybe dripping. Or splashing. This will have big curtains. But only to the half off the wall so the cats can't climb them as easily. I want a giant bed in the middle. And a fluffy rug that'll always be filled with pet hair. Over there goes a mirror. I'm thinking about dark green eye-catchers across the room. Pillows, picture frames, potted plants—maybe fake ones with glued-in soil." He seemed to vibrate with energy, the artist in Yuri planning out all the details as Otabek stared and watched. His husband was the most beautiful when his passion broke out of him like an explosion and enraptured everyone around. 

"You can have whatever you want if it makes you smile like that." Otabek grinned and pulled Yuri into his arms, who gave him only a quick hug, then wiggled free. 

"I need to show you something else!" 

Bathtub plans pushed aside for a moment, Otabek followed his lover into one of the other rooms. The house was far too big. There was no way they could ever have enough kids to populate it. Nothing stopped Yuri in his pursuit of the room he was looking for, though.  He stood in the middle and pointed around.

"Here, I'll paint a mural. Maybe a jungle scene. Or something about the desert. Maybe a circus? But that's animal cruelty. Hmm. Maybe a zoo." He rushed to the wall across from the one he focused on and began to scan it. Otabek could picture Yuri's eyes shooting laser beams, carefully cataloging the entire room, all corners and details. There was probably a three dimensional model of the house in Yuri's head already, every room colorful, and at the same time, decorated with taste. It made Otabek feel warm. 

"This is where I'd put the crib. Not too much light, not in the direct airflow from the window to the door. The wall is pretty far away from the outside noises." He measured distances with his hand, calculating formulas Otabek couldn't even imagine coming up with on the spot. It didn't matter that Yuri wasn't writing any of that down. Otabek knew it was still there, in his head, ready to be used whenever needed. 

"This is where the changing station goes." 

Yuri pointed at the other wall and, when Otabek realized he wouldn't stop anytime soon, he sat down in the middle of the room and allowed the future to wash over him. Admittedly, he zoned out a little at some point. Not on purpose, but when Yuri sat down next to him, it took some effort not to visibly startle. "Hello there." 

"Did you even listen?" 

"Yeah." 

"Where does the giant toy bear go?" 

Shit. Otabek's lips curled a little, then he pointed at some spot he chose at random. "Personally, I think it would look good over there." 

Yuri answered him with the noise of a buzzer announcing his failure. "Nope. That was a trick question. There won't be a giant bear. Only a tiger. And he goes over  _ there _ ." Yuri pointed in the almost exact same direction. But Otabek wouldn't pick a fight over it. 

"Sorry. I admit I zoned out a little. BUT … now you'll have to wait, and I'll pick you back up in a few minutes. Okay?" 

A skeptical gaze met him, but Yuri nodded his agreement nonetheless. With a grin, Otabek got up and returned to the bedroom to grab the bag with his purchases. The sparkling wine was warm now, but who cared? Yuri, probably. Well, he'd live. 

Otabek continued to the bathroom and again admired the tub. It really was a beautiful place. Just like the entire estate. Oh God. What kind of gift had they been given? Absolutely ridiculous. He filled the tub with water and foam, closed the blinds, and set up the candles. Otabek then put the lube to the side, along with the towels to cuddle up in.

Once he returned to the potential children's room, Yuri looked up at him with a bright smile. "You're back. Did I hear water?" 

Otabek hummed and walked over, offering his husband a hand up. "Yeah. And you'll love it." When Yuri moved, Otabek easily picked him up. For most of his life, Yuri had hated being carried because it made him feel like a damsel in distress. But he expressed again and again how nice it was with Otabek. “My surprise consists of both of us being naked. I know you have a soft spot for that.” 

“I wouldn’t call it  _ soft _ —” He stopped himself and stared at the giant tub. “Oh. Well. That is … a bathtub.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And … a lot of candles. And foam, and … Beka … How?” 

Otabek gently set him down and cupped Yuri’s face. “Shhh. No more talking, just kissing, okay?” Yuri seemed to melt into his hands, so Otabek did exactly what he had planned to do and kissed his husband, lovingly, slowly, deeply. For one moment, they wouldn’t have to worry about the rest of the world, they could simply relax and be themselves. 

Undressing was slow, soft, tender. A brush of fingertips, a tiny bite, a lot of tongue trailing over naked skin, forcing goosebumps where it left damp trails. “I love you so much.” 

When they were finally peeled out of their garments, Otabek took Yuri’s hand and guided him to sit down. He followed, settled behind Yuri, curled around him. They were used to that pose by now. It gave as much comfort as the candlelight, and Otabek was glad when he sensed Yuri relaxing. 

For a while, it was just them, nothing else. Usually, Yuri was a very sexual creature, especially when he was stressed. But right now, he seemed far away from impure thoughts, simply soaking up the warmth, the pleasant scents, the proximity. Without any idea for how long they stayed, Otabek allowed himself to rest his eyes. Yuri loved to call him an old man for that, but oh well. It  _ was  _ enjoyable. 

The water turned cold around them, and Beka wondered why his husband was still not jumping him. Not that he demanded any kind of physical attention, but Yuri usually would be the first to try and mount him. “Babe?” 

Yuri turned his head, eyes tired and hazy. “Hmm?” 

Now Otabek felt bad for pulling him out of his relaxation. “Nothing, forget it, жаным.” He kissed the top of Yuri’s spine and rubbed down his arms with a soft, lazy smile. “Just wanted to make sure you are feeling good.” 

“With you, always.” 

“That’s a lie.” 

“It’s not.” 

“We fight sometimes, too.” 

“We always make up.” Yeah. They did. Otabek smiled. Yuri was good at saying sorry. But that wasn’t the point right now, Otabek reminded himself, as he tried to pull his head out of the gutter. 

“What are you thinking about?” Yuri was unusually quiet after all, even though apparently it wasn’t worry. Which was a comforting thought. 

“The future. Kids. Kittens. Us. Graduation. Jobs. So much. Nothing at all.” Well, with all that on his mind, Otabek would struggle to get horny, too.

“Ah, yeah. Do you have any specific thoughts you want to share?” Sometimes, even after years, Yuri would still need prompting to know he was allowed to express himself freely. Right now seemed to be such a moment. He turned and looked over his shoulder. 

“I can’t picture getting pregnant. But I would love to have my own child. Don’t get me wrong. Adoption is great. But ... “ 

“It’s different. Yeah.” 

“Yeah.” In addition, Otabek was sure their parents would prefer them to have a biological offspring, too. And while he liked to tell himself they did none of this for their parents, Otabek had to remind himself how they had gotten married in the first place. 

“I was thinking about … you know, having my eggs take out and then getting someone else to … carry my child? Our child. And you could even father it. It would be one hundred percent our baby, but at the same time, it wouldn’t shake up my dysphoria as much and …” Yuri sighed. 

Holy shit, that man was clever. Otabek had never thought of that possibility, and he had spent hours and hours trying to figure out a way. It wasn’t exactly an easy solution, but … It could work. And they definitely had the resources to pull it off. 

“... I know it’s dumb and extra, and I should just get over myself an—”

“No.” Otabek tightened his grip on his husband. “Don’t even continue this thought. Take it and toss it into the trash, along with all the other  _ ‘I have to’ _ s and the  _ ‘I should just’ _ s. You don’t have to, and there is no  _ ‘just’ _ in this. It’s complicated. You are amazing, my love, and I know you can do anything you set your mind to, but I will never ask of you to  _ ‘get over yourself’ _ or something horrible like that. We all have limitations. Your uterus belongs to you and you can do with it whatever you want, including  _ ‘absolutely nothing at all _ ’.”

Yuri inhaled shakily. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Everyone who made you think like this in the first place should apologize to you.” And not just Yuri. So many people thought they could dictate to people with a uterus how they should handle it. Otabek had no time for their bullshit. 

Yuri barrel-rolled over, almost soaking the tiles on the floor as water cascaded down the side of the tub. “I would marry you again. Not just for formalities. You know that, right?” 

Otabek nodded. “And I try to prove myself worthy of it every day.” Yuri sighed as if he said something dramatic. But it was his truth, and with the same vigor he protected his husband’s freedom of speech, Otabek demanded to be allowed to speak his mind, too. Even if it was just sappy little love confessions. 

Yuri booped his nose with a grin. “Okay. I’ll take care of this stuff, and you keep being as amazing as you are?” 

“I want to help, too.”

“Well, you will have to jerk into a cup.” 

“A soldier’s service.” 

The smile Yuri answered with was enough to justify a dozen trips to that stupid grocery store. Because finally, after days of tension, some relaxation seeped into his features again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE HAVE KIDS AS AN OFFICIAL TOPIC, WOHOOOO ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap chapter 3: Otabek and Yuri explore the new house. They end up planning out some of the rooms before Otabek gets a bathtub ready for them. Here, they speak about children again and ways to achieve their goal. They settle on the idea of a surrogate mother.

“Okay, good news. This is much easier than I thought.” Yuri walked into the living room with a laptop perched precariously on his arm. He forced into the tiny space between Medina and his husband, so they could both look at the screen. Otabek stared at a green website with family photos. Only when he read the name did he understand what Yuri was referring to. The surrogacy experience. Ah.

He turned his head to offer full attention to his husband. It had only been a few hours since they talked about the topic, but apparently Yuri decided to give it his all. Just like he always did. Otabek really should have known, retrospectively. “You looked up an agency?” 

“Don’t ridicule yourself. I looked up  _ everything. _ ” 

“Without me?” Medina seemed scandalized. Huh? Otabek felt like he had more right than his little sister to be a part of that process, but apparently, this was a competition now. 

“Oh, because you helped me with the cats? So you will help with this, too?” Yuri sounded as if it was the best idea he ever heard. The way Medina nodded seemed to only confirm that. That was … fast. No questions asked, Medina wasn’t even shocked they wanted this, she was only insulted because Yuri began to plan without her. Interesting. As always, Otabek underestimated her. 

Lutz screamed at their feet and Otabek picked her up. For some reason, she favored him, god bless. “So. We are doing this?” 

“We are totally doing this. If you want. You want to, right? Teddy?” Before Yuri could further the panic that was already rising up in him, Otabek rubbed his back. 

“Yes. Yes, of course I want to.” Kids had been a topic between them forever, and the longer he saw Yuri with the kittens, the more obvious his desire to parent more than cats became. Sometimes, Otabek caught him staring at Pinterest lists of children’s bedrooms. Now, with an entire house to furnish, things would only get  _ ‘worse’ _ . 

“Are we going to tell our parents?” 

“Not yet, They barely managed to grasp the concept of transsexuality. If we give them any more news, good or bad, they might combust. And, which is another big issue, I’m afraid they might not take the situation seriously if you express a wish for children.” 

Yuri nodded. “Very true.” He clicked around a little, then showed a tab to Otabek, displaying a part of the website that dealt with gay parents. “The agency is friendly towards gays, you know? Even though I am biologically female, they … I think they would actually treat our situation with respect.” 

That was great news. Otabek began to scratch Yuri’s neck, then leaned over to kiss it. “I would ask what else we need to research, but knowing you …” 

“The average cost is ranging from $98,000 to $150,000. It can be less. Or more. Depending on the circumstances. But …” 

“Money isn’t an issue.” 

“Money isn’t an issue. We could register and fill out our profile before we are matched with a surrogate. Then we could meet them, could see how we feel about each other, and … start the process, basically.” 

“How much do you know about the process.” 

“Full disclosure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s mentioned I would have to take estrogen for a few days. I panicked and closed the tab after that.” 

“Huh.” Otabek leaned over and kissed Yuri’s temple. “There is no rush. Right? And if you don’t want to—”

“I will. It just scares me. But I will.” Yuri’s eyes were made of iron. Or diamond. So Otabek nodded. 

“Anything else?” 

“I will read through it, but so far … It all looks surprisingly unproblematic. The laws support surrogacy, even though they vary a little per state. Technically, it’s a little more complicated for same-sex couples. But since officially I am a woman …” Yuri looked like he wanted to throw up when he said it, but there was a small, devious glint in his eyes. 

Medina sat up straighter. “Well. I know I am a minor. But I am also a woman and—” 

“No.” Both Yuri and Otabek answered at the same time. She deflated a little, but Medina was nothing but stubborn. 

“I want to help, and it’s not uncommon for girls my age to give birth, and I wouldn’t even have to—” 

“No. Sweetheart, no.” Yuri took her hand, mostly because he was closer. Otabek still reached around his husband to put his hand on his sister’s shoulder. 

“Yuri is right. Please, Medina. No. I appreciate you wanting to help, but—” 

“BUT I WANT TO STAY WITH YOU.” The outburst was sudden and forceful. She jumped up, causing Axel to almost fall over. Medina caught him in the last second and placed him on the sofa, but then she began to pace like a tiger in a cage. “I don’t want to go back! I want to stay here! With you! With your friends and the kittens and the laws allowing you to be who you are and the—” 

“Medina—” 

“NO!” For the first time, she looked like a teenager going through puberty. Otabek belatedly realized,how much he had taken her calm and mature demeanor for granted. Medina was still a child and full of confusion and hormones and thoughts too big for the repression she felt. 

He stood up and her hands flew over her mouth. Then, Medina did something Otabek had never seen her do before. She ducked away. He froze mid-step, staring at the child. Her body was turned to the side, hands protecting her face. Otabek knew this stance, had fought enough in his life to recognize it and immediately knelt down. From one moment to the next, burning hot rage boiled inside his guts. Who had taught his baby sister to flinch? Who had caused her to fear an approaching man? 

His family was conservative but no physical harm had ever been dealt between them. 

Otabek did his humanely best to look calm and collected, even though a dozen questions raced through his brain with a hundred miles a minute. He held out his hands. “Medina.” She hesitated to look up and it broke his heart into a million shards. “Medina …” Otabek tried again, and this time, her eyes squinted over the tip of her fingers. 

When she noticed his stance, Medina dropped her protective barrier. “Beka.” Her hands raised to point at Otabek’s face. “Why are you … crying?” Was he? He hadn’t even noticed. There was too much on his mind to worry about himself. Otabek opened his arms to offer a hug to his sister. The way she hesitated, seemed to think twice, worried him. But eventually, Medina walked into his arms. A second later, her face was buried against Otabek’s neck, and she was crying, too. “Please don’t … send me away. I will do … everything. Please don’t send me away again.” 

“We … we can’t just keep you. You can’t just … stay here. You are a minor.” 

“There are boarding schools.” 

“Mom and dad would never—” 

“They want to take me out of school, you know? Say I don’t need it anyway. They want me to work more around the house, no longer leave to go to school, just …” Otabek used to think all of his sisters fell silently into traditional gender roles, but apparently, he had been wrong. “I don’t mind working around the house! I can do anything! But … I want to … you let me go out. Talk to people. Meet others. I …” She had the same longing for freedom that Otabek had since he was a teenager. But he was allowed to leave Kazakhstan. It used to be considered a success to have the son run an offshore business. Medina leaving would be considered trouble. A problem. She couldn’t just go. So Otabek held her tighter. 

And another pair of arms wrapped around them. But while he was still wondering what to, Yuri was already finding solutions. “We will get you out of there if you really want to leave. You can stay with us as long as you want. I can’t promise you things will work out immediately, Mina, but we will find a way.” 

She hiccuped and moved to hug them both even tighter. Otabek wasn’t convinced that promise was the right thing to do because how could he ensure things would work out? But they had to try. They had to try for her. 

They would find a way, just like Yuri had said. 

\----------

Alexander rang their doorbell at nine. It was too late for a casual visit, so neither of them expected guests. Which was why Otabek was surprised to find Yuri’s father standing in front of him. 

“Otabek.”

No diminutives. Okay. 

“Alexander.” 

They nodded at each other, but Otabek refused to step aside until he knew what the man wanted. After an awkward, slightly too long pause, he received his answer. “I need to talk to Yuri.” 

“I can go and ask him if he wants to welcome you. But it was a conscious choice not to invite guests today.” 

Alexander’s nose flared. He was obviously not used to people talking to him like that. So Otabek waited, steadfast in the door frame. He wouldn’t do more than he had to for a man who treated his child any differently just because of their gender orientation. Another tense moment, then Alexander nodded. Otabek hadn’t waited for permission to move, though, so instead of leaving, he tilted his head. After seeing Medina so broken, he was tired of parents thinking they could get away with everything. 

By now, Alexander looked uncomfortable. He nodded again as if Otabek was too dumb to understand the gesture. “I want to talk to—” there was a pregnant pause, before he continued, looking like he swallowed a truck load of pebbles. “—him.” 

“I understood that.” 

“And … can you ask … him … to talk to me?” 

“No. But I can ask him if he wants to.” 

Another nose flare. Alexander recognized Otabek’s deliberate disobedience for what it was. Silent rebellion. “Sure.” 

He closed the door in Alexander’s face with a quiet  _ ‘one moment’ _ , before Otabek walked off to find Yuri. Curled up with Medina on the sofa, he stared up. “Your father wants to talk to you.” 

“Too bad. I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“Do you want me to relay that?” Because Otabek would. Word for word. 

But Yuri huffed. “Nah. But thank you. Sometimes we gotta force ourselves into situations we don’t want to find the solutions for. I guess. But make sure Mina doesn’t scroll too far without me.” 

Otabek settled next to his sister. He smiled when he saw what they had been working on. Medina looked through Pinterest, a board open about nurseries. “You really are going to have a baby, aren’t you?” 

He nodded and kissed her head. “I hope so.” 

“I want to be around. I want to make sure they grow up strong and healthy and happy. Not because you guys can’t ensure that or anything. But … you gave me so much. I want to give back.” Otabek pressed another kiss to the crown of her head. 

“You know ana and äke won’t allow that. You know, chances are, they won’t let you visit us ever again. Because we might corrupt you.” 

“I’ll run away.” She didn’t sound like a child talking about funny little future plans. Medina seemed dead serious. Which worried Otabek. 

“I don’t want you to be in a place you aren’t happy in either. But I don’t think it’s that easy.” 

“I didn’t say it would be easy.” She leaned against her brother, trying to breathe deeply, but struggling to. “But I can’t go back. I can’t be like Danata. Or even Ayana. I need to be me and I feel like I can only do that with you. You are the only one with a feminist mindset. Which is ridiculous because you aren’t even a woman.” 

“Neither am I a tree and I still care about nature.” 

Medina huffed and snuggled into him. “Promise me you’ll do whatever you can. That’s all I ask. Promise me you will actually try, Beka.” 

He sighed, inhaling the earthy scent of Medina’s hair. It reminded him of a home far in his past and it was already getting fainter. “I’ll try. But please don’t hate me if I can’t move mountains.” 

Again, his sister nodded. “I promise.” 

“I promise.” 

From the hallway, voices came closer until Alexander was standing in their living room. He stared at Otabek, who returned the gaze unusually cooly. 

“Tell him what you told me.” Yuri moved to sit on the sofa, curling against Otabek’s free side. Somehow, he radiated a smugness that didn’t fit the situation. 

Alexander pursed his lips, stared out the window, perhaps hoping for snow, just like Otabek did a few days ago. Then, his eyes returned to the family. “I talked to Nikolai.” 

Nikolai Plisetsky, founder of the Plisetsky oil empire, grandfather of Yuri. A traditionalist, who loved his granddaughter, that wasn’t a granddaughter anymore. Otabek had only gotten to exchange a few words with him during their wedding, but they seemed to get along just fine. How had he reacted to the news? And why did Alexander even spread it? Wasn’t the family’s reaction what he feared most? Even more importantly, why did Yuri radiate so much contentment? 

Otabek nodded at his father-in-law, a parody of his own actions. Alexander didn’t seem to miss the gibe but continued on regardless. “He demanded my apology to both of you. Katya’s, too, but she …” 

“Already apologized on her own?” Yuri supplied, not hiding the glee he felt. 

“Yes.” 

“So?” Otabek didn’t understand where that change in their dynamic came from, but all of a sudden, Yuri was a ringleader, guiding his own father around the arena with a metal chain and a smile. Just because Nikolai demanded an apology? Otabek knew the man was powerful. But he never imagined  _ this.  _

“I want to apologize to both of you for my terrible behavior. I didn’t mean to insult either of you. And I will support you in every way I can. Financially, emotionally, socially, however you  _ allow me  _ to support you.” 

What? Otabek turned to his husband, who  _ waved his father off.  _ It was unreal. But Alexander straightened out of the slight bow he had assumed for his apology. Somehow, he didn’t even look angry, just uncomfortable. 

“Thank you, papa. I will tell deda that I received your sincere apology.” 

For some reason, Alexander looked a bit too relieved. He nodded at them, then turned towards the door. “I … would like to go home and talk to Katya. Tomorrow, if that is fine with you, I would like to meet with the two of you and see what we can do to make your life easier. Yes?” 

Yuri smiled. “Yes. Good night, papa.” 

“Good night, Yurochka. Good night, Medina and … Beka?” The insecurity in his voice was almost too much to witness. 

“Night, Sasha.” 

Alexander nodded, yet again flooded by that strange look of relief, and was out of the room almost immediately. What kind of fever dream was this? Otabek slowly turned to his still grinning husband.

Yuri smirked, but then decided to indulge him. “He ran to grandpa to snitch in the hopes he would … I don’t know, command me to reconsider? No idea. But as it turns out, grandpa cussed him out. Harshly. Who would have known the old man is so liberal?” Yuri giggled and drank a sip of water that he treated like champagne. 

“Why is your father so afraid of his dad?” 

“Oh. Deda is not papa’s father. He is mama’s. My father is married into fame and fortune, just like you. And if he doesn’t play along …” Yuri’s grin was borderline devious now. 

“Your grandpa threatened to cut him off?” 

“I don’t know what he said or did. But it was enough to ensure my father rethought his position about my transition.” 

The entire situation reminded him of a discussion from his birthday party. “You are sure we are talking about an  _ oil  _ empire here? Not the mafia?” 

Yuri grinned and took another sip of his water. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot in this chapter. Research from Yuri, a little stress around poor Medina, and of course, Alexander apologizing. How are you feeling? :D
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 4: Yuri researches information about surrogacy, Medina has a little breakdown about wanting to stay in the United States, and Alexander apologizes for his behavior when he learns, that Nikolai disapproves.

“Beka.” Medina slumped down on his side of the bed first thing in the morning, and Otabek was grateful he and Yuri didn’t sleep naked. It was too cold for that shit, and for once, they hadn’t fooled around. Mostly because Yuri struggled to be quiet, and they didn’t want to traumatize Medina. Otabek turned to ask his husband if Yuri had allowed her in, but there was no trace of him. “He’s in the kitchen, cooking something that smells great.” 

“Huh.” Otabek felt a hundred years old. Was this what people were talking about when they spoke about his thirties creeping up on him? “Good morning. What are you doing here?” 

Medina didn’t seem shaken by his question and instead slipped into bed with him, cuddling herself into an artificial embrace with a happy hum. “You know you promised me to do whatever you can to keep me here. Right?” 

“Right.” That was starting out amazingly. Maybe, if he asked politely, she would give him a few minutes to actually wake up. 

“At first I thought I could do an au pair year. You know, live with you guys, take care of the kittens and kids while Yuri and you are at work, stuff like that. But … That would be only one year. And they ask for a bunch of requirements that I don’t fulfill. Au pairs have to be between the ages of 18 and 26, and they all speak at least conversational English on the website I looked at. I’d have to have finished the equivalent of high school. And I’d need at least 200 hours of childcare experience. Sooooo … that isn’t really happening.” 

Fuck. Medina had thought about this a lot. Otabek shifted so he could look at the screen of the tablet she carried around. He also made sure to properly cover her with the blanket, mostly so their joined cuddle cave wouldn’t grow cold. “Okay?” What else could he say to that? Apparently his favorite people planned all sorts of things involving him without his help. Which was kind of nice, but also kind of frustrating. At least they tried to include him in the decision making process. He had to take what he could get at this point. “You’re grinning. What else do you have?” 

“This.” Medina now moved the tablet, so Otabek could see a white and burgundy website with the headline ‘Fay School—The foundation of a meaningful life.” Beneath that stood “Fay in Kazakhstan’ in fancy lettering. 

“A boarding school.” Otabek stared at the webpage in surprise. 

“It’s perfect.” Medina nodded and scrolled across the landing page, pointing out different details. The school was three hours away from them by car. Which was nothing in a country as big as the United States. “I could live there during the week. They have dorms. And then, during the weekends, I could come live with Yuri and you. If you want me to. And if not? I can stay in the dorms. It’s not a problem at all!” She pointed to a page titled ‘Weekends at Fay’ with information about the 150 students who stayed the entire week on campus and what they could do there. 

Otabek nodded and took the tablet, reading over it. Everything sounded … a little too perfect to be true. “Where is the catch?” 

“I haven’t found one yet.” Medina stole the tablet back and began to click around again. “It’s an old school with traditional Kazakhstani values but also an interest in staying modern. 475 students in Kindergarten through grade nine.” She pointed at the mission statement and read it out loud. “‘The mission of Fay School is to educate each child to his or her full potential through a broad, balanced, and challenging program that establishes a solid foundation for a productive and fulfilling life.’” With a smile, Medine looked at him. “They even gendered the description. I wish they had chosen ‘their’, but, oh well.” 

Again, Otabek nodded and petted her hair. “That sounds really good. But it’s also … vague. I’m not sure it will be enough to convince ana and äke.” 

“It’s not all.” Again, Medina navigated the site as if she had been working with it for days, not just a few hours. “Here. Look at this.” She pointed at two of the points on the landing page again. 

Otabek raised his eyebrow and began to read out loud. “‘Our well-rounded program establishes a solid foundation in reading, writing, critical thinking, public speaking, quantitative analysis, and problem-solving. A highlight of our program is our creativity and design curriculum, where students engage in real-world design projects in partnership with companies like Converse, Bose, and Barnes and Noble.’” He frowned in concentration. This … this could actually work. Creativity and design was something commonly attributed to women but was necessary for their job just as much. And real-world programs at Medina’s age would mean a huge advantage in the international market.  _ IF  _ their family ever considered allowing her out of Kazakhstan. “‘Fay provides a comprehensive educational experience—academics, athletics, the arts, and character education—in a multicultural setting that includes students from across the United States and 22 countries. Students live and learn together in a community that embraces the school’s core values of academic excellence, earnest effort, honorable conduct, dedicated service, and wellness of mind, body, and spirit.’” Holy shit, he could see why Medina had yet to find a catch. This website sounded as if she coded it herself to convince their parents. 

“The only thing that might bother them could be the tuition.” 

“Is it that expensive?” 

Medina shrugged and opened the page listing different kinds of payment models for students of varying ages and schooling plans. “Not really, when you consider what is included. All fees for books and supplies, lunch and snacks, local field trips, programmatic trips, and athletics. Also morning and after-school care, housing, 24/7 supervision, daily breakfast and dinner, meals on weekends, laundry, and evening and weekend activities and trips. And for international students like me, fees for administering and supporting students and families.” 

“Fuck, you really put a lot of research into this.”

Medina giggled and pointed to a grey box on the site Otabek hadn’t paid attention to yet. “Nah. But I can read.” 

Oh. Well. He scanned the side more thoroughly. “If I’m seeing that correctly ... the maximum amount you could have to pay is … roughly eighty-thousand per year?” 

She nodded. “Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I know it’s a lot. But—” 

“We can afford it.” Otabek knew how well the family business was doing, not just the US branch. 

Medina inhaled sharply, then exhaled longer than she should reasonably have been able to. “You think they will agree?” 

“No. But we can try. It’s your best shot. And … it  _ does  _ look perfect. Get a presentation ready, where you show them exactly what the school does. Pictures. Testimonials. Hype it up. Make it look like they are bad parents for not thinking about sending you themselves. Include the fees and make sure you have some cost model to justify them. Then, hand the entire thing to me. I’ll look over it. And I’ll present it to them.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “We both know they won’t listen to you if you do it on your own. But if I pretend it was my idea … and I’m sorry I even have to recommend it that way because clearly you are very well prepared and so incredibly clever. You and your enthusiasm should be enough a hundred times to sell the concept. It doesn’t work like that, though. So … I’ll … Is it okay for you if I do it?” Medina nodded immediately. She seemed more grateful than offended. “Okay. Well then. Get to work, айналайын.” A kiss to his cheek, and Medina bolted from the bed to go ahead with their ideas. 

Otabek sighed. Well. He was barely awake and already being steam-rolled by plans. At least he could relax a little longer now. Just when he barely closed his eyes, the door opened and Yuri stuck his head around the corner. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Otabek didn’t bother telling Yuri that he was mostly awake because his husband was talking to him, and therefore, actively keeping him from falling back to sleep. Yuri entered with a plate of steaming pirozhki just a second after, and Otabek decided being conscious was worth it. “Hey, teddy. Look what I made, in honor of my grandpa strong-arming my papa into submission.” He giggled and set the plate down. Saliva was already collecting in Otabek’s mouth just from looking at them. 

“Can I?” 

“They are for you. I already had my fill in the kitchen.” 

“Medina?” 

“Has her own plate.” 

“I love you.” 

Yuri beamed and returned the sentiment. He snuggled up to Otabek as he began to devour the godsent food. But the second Otabek’s teeth dug into them, Yuri pulled out his phone. “About the house decoration …” 

Oh boy. It would be a long day. 

\----------

When their doorbell rang, Otabek expected his parents. Or Yuri’s parents. Or maybe some poor delivery guy. He did not expect Chris. Not at 1 PM on a weekday, even if it was the period between the years where time was just an absurd idea. “Hey there …” 

Chris nodded and scratched his neck. “Can I come in?” 

“Sure. I didn’t know you planned to come over so I can’t offer you any fresh food, but if you wait a bit—” 

“You don’t have to. But thank you. I’m actually here for—” 

“CHRIS!” Medina rushed through the room and catapulted herself into his arms. Chris caught her with the surety of someone who was around younger kids a lot. A surprise to Otabek, but a welcome one. 

“Bonjour mon poussin.” 

“The fuck did you just call her?” Yuri roared from the living room, stomping over, too, initially to greet his friend but now obviously less amused. 

Chris looked confused, but then repeated, “Mon poussin. It ... It means .. my … chick? I guess?” 

“What the FUCK, Giacometti?” 

The confusion seemed to fester as Chris tried to figure out where he went wrong, then clarity washed over his face, and he began to chuckle. “Oh! OOOH! No, no, no. ‘Chick’ as in baby chicken. The tiny, fluffy, yellow things. Not the derogatory term for women! It’s a French term of endearment for children! But … yeah, I see where that could be … misinterpreted. Sorry.” 

Yuri didn’t look too sure, but Medina was already squealing again, visibly happy about being reunited with her friend. “Come in. What brings you here?” 

“Mina texted me about her holiday season so far and about the … situation with your families. I’m sorry it’s all so … complicated.” Yuri tipped his head, and Chris seemed experienced enough to read the energy of a room and stopped talking about their parents. “I … also really wanted to see the kittens. And of course, you guys, too.” 

“Of course.” Otabek grinned and gestured for Chris to settle on the sofa. Medina cuddled into him. Yuri looked a little miffed about it, but once he settled next to her, Medina let go of Chris and tossed herself into Yuri’s embrace instead. Peace was restored as he kissed the crown of her head. “Do I have to cuddle with Chris now?” 

Yuri glared, gently pushed Medina off, and opened his arms toward Otabek. Well, then. With everyone stored on the sofas, they simply took a moment to enjoy the peaceful quiet. Then, Chris began to speak. “Phichit and I …” 

Oh. That was something the group had been a little anxious about. The two of them kept fighting and making up over the last few weeks, but whenever a situation involved Seung-Gil, things got nasty. And Chris’s tone implied the involvement of him, even though Chris didn’t outright say it yet. Yuri nodded, urging Chris to continue as Medina squeezed him a little tighter. 

“We … weren’t really good for each other, I guess.” Damn. That meant they broke up. Right? This time for real? Before, they had fought and even hurled the occasional harsh word at each other. But Chris sounded like there was no fight left in him. Otabek readied himself for another taxing conversation. But it never really came. “The entire situation with Seung-Gil … no one won in that constellation. We all kind of lost.” 

For a second, he wondered if it was a bad idea to discuss all this with Medina close by, but then Otabek remembered what she had heard from their group of friends already and accepted that Medina was probably more knowledgeable about the situation than he was, anyway. 

“We decided to end it. For good. Not our friendship, but the entire fwb-aspect. I can’t stand the way Seung-Gil treats him, and obviously, it led to tension not just between him and me, but also between Phichit and me. And Phichit and him. So as I said, no one really won. And I love Peachy too much to watch our friendship go up in flames.” When Chris noticed Otabek’s quizzical gaze, he added, “Platonic love. Don’t worry, I didn’t spontaneously flip inside out. But … just because I don’t want him romantically doesn’t mean I don’t want him. So …” 

Everyone in the room nodded. Silence fell over them again. It was snowing today and Otabek was thankful for that.. He looked out of the big windows, and suddenly, wonder grabbed him. This year’s Christmas was different from last year’s, yes. Yuri was out to his family and the Plisetskys were here, too. There were kittens playing to his feet. But overall, it felt kind of similar. What would the next year bring, though? They had so many ideas, so many thoughts going on. He would probably look at the snow through different windows. If there was any snow. Maybe Medina would live in America then. Maybe they would have a surrogate, pregnant with their baby. Maybe they would be able to celebrate without the entire extended family for once, instead having their chosen family close by. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Change was coming up, and Otabek knew it was necessary, but it was also a lot. Scary in a way. 

“How will things continue for you now?” Yuri’s voice pulled him out of the thick thought blanket Otabek had draped over himself. 

“Phichit and Seung-Gil do their thing. I will move on. Maybe I’ll bang Minami or something.” Chris chuckled, but it was a sad sound. No one else laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to … fuck. Sorry, I …” Medina buried her head against Chris’s chest. He took a few deep breaths, then relaxed a little. “That was … unnecessary. Sorry. Minami is a lovely person, and I would never pity-fuck him.” He huffed, obviously somewhat disgusted with himself. “I don’t know how things will continue for me. I’ll … work it out.” 

Just when the silence settled around them again, the doorbell ripped it apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medina's potential future boarding school is real and exists. I was so happy when I found it in the research process, I nearly died. We also finally found out what happened with Phichit and Chris. And yet again, I end a chapter with a ringing doorbell. I'm sorry about that. (I actually am, but what follows is a lot, so it makes sense, I swear.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 5: Medina furthers her plans to stay in America and finds a boarding school to potentially make her dreams come true. Yuri cooks and continues his planning of their new home. Then, Chris comes over and tells them about the breakup with Phichit. As if the day wasn't stressful enough, the doorbell rings.
> 
> Warning - Hello friends. This is a tough time for many of us. So I wanted to warn you. This chapter is a lot. There is hope at the end. But I wanted you to be able to decide if you can handle it right now or not. Below the cut will be a content warning/ spoiler so you can decide. 
> 
> \-----------
> 
> \-----------
> 
> \-----------
> 
> This chapter contains problematic believes and approaches to concepts like feminism and emancipation.  
> Otabek and Medina get disowned by their father.

Generally, Otabek wasn’t too happy to see his parents. But right now might have been one of the worst situations for them to come over. Especially as his mother huffed for him to move aside and let them in. Great. Otabek shook his head and stepped away from the door. Not that he had many options; his mother was already barrelling into the living room. 

She blinked at Medina in Chris’s arms. For one moment, she looked like a raccoon trying to wash cotton candy, shaken with utter disbelief as the sugary treat dissolved, but then she caught herself and went to shouting instead. Otabek was thankful she used Kazakh or Yuri and Chris would have gotten involved and made the situation worse. As it was, Otabek stepped between them. 

It seemed to be enough of a reminder that other people were present, and his mother relented enough to stop yelling. But her eyes were daggers, trained on Otabek now. “Step aside. I need to talk to her.” 

“You can talk all you want, but you will not yell at her. Not here, not anywhere.” He was reminded of the way Medina flinched when he moved toward her recently, and Otabek’s gaze turned even colder. Keeping his voice low and calm was a struggle, but he would do everything not to be the aggressor here. 

“Otabek Altin. Move aside.” 

“No.” 

“Move.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” He spat the sentence, fed up with the situation enough to let his anger simmer through. But that was a mistake because now Yuri was up, too. He probably stayed out of it because he knew his involvement would make things worse, but now, he didn’t seem to care anymore. He might not have understood their words, but Yuri was a master in reading tone. 

“You. You sit down.” She switched to Russian and glared at Yuri, then to clumsy English, as she addressed Chris. “And you? You will go to jail for touching my daughter!” 

Chris, obviously shaken, tried to make himself small. At least he understood that he should just shut up and let them handle the situation. Contrary to Medina, who jumped out from behind Otabek. “HE IS MY FRIEND! HE DID NOT DO ANYTHING WRONG!” Her English was far from perfect, but she understood enough to catch the threat ten times. 

Just when their mother was about to yell again, Otabek’s father moved past her. He gave her a single glance, cold and harsh. It was enough to silence her.  _ That  _ had happened maybe twice in the entire history of their marriage. At least to Otabek’s knowledge. “We did not come here to pick a fight.” She was visibly about to protest, but another glare sealed her mouth. 

The entire experience was unreal. Otabek’s father turned around and looked at everyone involved. “I’m sorry. We came here to apologize for our behavior.” What? Otabek struggled to believe his ears. His parents were here to apologize? That was a 180-degree turn. “We … talked to Alexander. And he was right. We should support you.” Ah. They talked to Alexander. Of course. Otabek should have known at this point Yuri and him were barely more than a business situation. Had they ever been more? The realization struck him harder than expected. 

But if this was the new normal now, Otabek would treat it as such. He nodded at his father. “Thank you. We accept the apology, as long as it is followed by actual change.” It wasn’t his call to make, and he very well knew that, but luckily, Yuri didn’t look like he planned to protest. Instead, he swallowed and stepped aside, sitting back down. Good. One step towards de-escalation. 

Otabek looked at his mother. He missed the days when he was her golden boy and could do no wrong. But he would have to kiss the artificial peace goodbye now, and he would do so gladly if it meant protecting his sister. Refusing to look away first, he waited until she lowered her gaze. It was ridiculous. Absolutely inappropriate, archaic, almost. But it worked. Her jaw was visibly working, but she took a step back. 

He leveled eyes with his father, who had a similar staring contest going on with Medina. But she refused to back down, if Otabek was not mistaken. 

“You will stay with us in the hotel from now on.” 

It was the sentence Otabek feared, but he knew it would come. There was no way around it. Except, Medina refused to listen. She planted her feet and assumed a glare dark enough to frighten people twice her size. “No.” 

Their father stepped forward, but his chest collided with Otabek’s. “You can discuss this with her as much as you want. But you will not physically intimidate her. Not here, not anywhere else.” His tone was back to ice. 

The way his father curled his lip at Otabek demonstrated his real thoughts on his son better than any word he could utter. “You ruined her. She was perfect. And you ruined her. She has been … broken since that summer she spent with you. Won’t listen. Won’t follow. Dreams of feminism and a free world. You ruined her.” Again, Otabek was thankful for the choice of language because if Yuri had understood that, there would definitely be blood on his hands by now. 

“She is not broken. She is—” Otabek looked over his shoulder. Medina was crying now, even though she tried to hide it. Well, maybe she was broken after all but certainly not because of  _ him.  _ Turning back, he noticed the lack of compassion in his father’s eyes and wanted to vomit. “You know what? If you don’t want her the way she is, I’ll take her. I don’t care. She can live with Yuri and me and go to school here.” That was an entirely different approach than they had planned, but it was the only chance he saw. 

“Oh. You think you can handle her? You can't even handle your—” 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ .” 

His father had the audacity to laugh. He turned to Medina, then to his wife, and opened his arms. For the show effect, he even switched to Russian again. “You want to keep her? Then keep her. All she brings is trouble, just like you. No respect for the traditions of our country, of our family, of our business. Keep her. Good luck finding a way to make it work. You want to be her guardian? Please go ahead, Otabek.” His eyes trained on Medina again. “You will see what your precious America gives you. Your name means nothing here. You barely speak the language. You are a woman of color, an immigrant with no education. But go ahead. Stay with your brother and run into your own damnation. But do not come back to us, crawling, begging for a warm place. You are dead to us. Both of you.” 

The last words were directed at Otabek before his father turned and walked away, grabbing his wife’s arm in passing, as he dragged the crying, whimpering woman out of the room, the apartment, the complex, their life.

Otabek stood still, stunned into absolute silence. 

For a while, no one spoke.

Then, tentatively, Medina wrapped around his arm. Her hands were lower, though, barely reaching around his forearm. When Otabek turned to understand why, he found her kneeling on the floor, gaze averted, face flooded with silent tears. She was begging, but he didn’t understand for what. So he lowered himself, gathered her against his chest, and kissed her head. Otabek rocked her back and forth like a baby. “It will be okay,” he kept mumbling in Kazakh, close to her ear. “It will be okay. They love you. We love you. It will be okay.” 

He didn’t really believe himself. 

\---------- 

Chris didn’t leave that day. No one did. Their evening was spent in blanket piles on the floor, seeking comfort like penguins warming one another. Perhaps they shouldn’t celebrate Christmas next year. It was full of shit anyway. Otabek received his termination letter in an email barely two hours after their parents left. He pondered if he should tell Yuri, but in the end, he did. Mostly because that was their entire income. Sure, they had an apartment, a car, a house. But with Yuri in university and Medina soon going to a school with those tuition costs … things would be hard for a while. 

Leo came over in the evening after Otabek told him the news. He brought Guang Hong along, who cuddled up with Yuri. An hour later and Mila and Sara rang their doorbell. They carried a basket full of wine and a bottle of punch for Medina. Silently, they joined the blanket pile on the floor, gathering Medina against their chests. Leo handed in his resignation letter half an hour after Minami walked in. He brought more blankets, a collection of Disney movies, and an abundance of cookies. 

When Leo and Otabek finalized the ideas for the first draft of their new business pitch, the doorbell rang again. Otabek looked up, listening to Yuri as he opened the door. It was Phichit’s voice drafting in. “Hey. I … read the news. I’m … I don’t think I’m welcome. So I just ... “ Otabek stood and walked to the front door. 

“Why would you not be welcome?” 

His friend was covered in snow, tiny white crystals melting into the black hair. Behind him, Seung-Gil didn’t look bored or angry for once. “Because … Chris … He …” Phichit pointed across the hallway and into the open living room, where Chris was sitting, now leaning against Guang Hong. 

“He told us about you guys ending things. But … Why would that change our opinion on you?” 

Phichit swallowed visibly, then held up a basket filled with homemade cookies and a jar of what seemed to be marmalade. “If you … will have me, I …” They nodded, and Phichit turned to his boyfriend, eyes sad and apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t know that—” 

“Seung-Gil is welcome, too, of course.” Yuri finally found his voice again. He looked up at Otabek for confirmation, who nodded. 

“Oh. Well. Thank you.” The man behind Phichit seemed surprised. “I always thought …” 

Otabek shook his head. “Take your shoes off in the hallway, please. And … if possible, avoid arguments. Today has been long enough.” They tipped their heads in agreement, then entered. Slowly. As if they were afraid to be kicked out at any second. When they reached the cuddle pile, Phichit visibly hesitated, but Chris smiled at him. 

At least some things seemed to be easy tonight. 

Otabek returned to Leo and their plans. 

\----------

“Where did they come from?” He stared at the ceiling above them, unable to see anything but black. 

“I don’t know. I think Ji and Chris kind of … passed the word around.” 

“I guess.” 

Yuri snuggled further into their hug. He seemed exhausted, too, but determined. “So. We have a child now?” 

“I don’t think they are going to make us her legal guardians. It’s too much stress. And they have no reason for it. On the other hand, maybe. I’m … so sorry. I never wanted things to escalate like that. They aren’t usually like this. I … I don’t know what happened. My parents really weren’t an accurate representation of themselves, our family, or our culture tonight.” 

Yuri nodded, then huffed. “Honestly? This was the best-case scenario. I … it would have killed me to lose Medina. We wanted her to be here, didn’t we?” It was a testament to how much Yuri had grown that he tried to see things in a positive light, even now. 

“We did. But I didn’t plan to uproot her. Or us. I didn’t plan to lose my job and endanger our plans and …” He trailed off, unsure what else to say. 

“I didn’t plan to be born in a female body. Yet, here I am. Sometimes, we cause hurt by being who we are. But this isn’t on us. Sometimes, those we love hurt themselves when they hate us for things we can’t help. But that shouldn’t mean we are wrong. It just means that blind hatred turns against them. We are loved. Both of us. For who we are, really are. Think of all the people in the living room. We are loved. Money is nice but not everything. Money can not replace humanity. And maybe, one day your parents will realize their mistake. Maybe they will die thinking they did the right thing. We don’t know. But we know, today, here, right now, we are loved. And no matter how hard things will be, you and I are together. We will manage.” 

Otabek did not plan to cry that day. So much happened, all in 24 hours, and he had somehow managed to work through all of this without breaking down. But now, in the safety of Yuri’s arms, tugged away far from the cruelty of this world, Otabek allowed himself that tiny bit of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays I guess?  
> I'm sorry this is such a heavy chapter so close to everything.  
> Please tell me what you think, nonetheless. ♥
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 6: Chris comes over to talk about his relationship end with Phichit. Otabek's parents find him cuddled up with Medina and a huge fight breaks out. It ends with the Altins leaving, after telling both children they are dead to them. After Otabek loses his job on top, his friends come over to quietly support them. Leo and he begin to work on a new business model, before Yuri and he reflect on the very long day.

It was the 30th of December, and tomorrow, the new year would start. The magical new year. All Otabek could focus on was trying to get his life back in order. Medina had to be accommodated. He would have to get her a green card or something, make sure she is registered for school, taken out of her current school, and would have to acquire all the documents they needed … It was a lot. Then, there was Yuri, thinking more and more about gender reassignment surgery. The surrogacy they had to plan. The new house that needed furnishing. And on top, a baby to plan for, the kittens weaseling around his ankles, and an entire new business Leo and he planned to create. 

Otabek’s list of potential mind-numbing activities was _long._ And this was supposed to be his two weeks off. Fuck. It was still dark outside. Even without looking at a clock, he knew he barely slept. Yuri next to him was still resting peacefully, so that was something, he guessed. 

Grabbing his laptop, Otabek decided to work through stuff as best as he could. The first thing on his mind was Medina, but her case was so specific, he wouldn’t find too many helpful ideas on how to proceed with her. He would have to contact the family lawyer in the morning. Next was their financial situation. It was … a thing right now. Never in his life had he worried about money. Otabek had earned his own income since he was a young adult. So this was … new. Of course, he had savings. And after this Christmas, they had enough goods to sell to last them months. 

In theory. 

Because Medina’s school fees would make a large dent in his savings account, as would the fees for the surrogacy. And the new furniture for the house. And any potential surgery for Yuri. Thinking about it made Otabek realize he was far less independent than he thought. He sighed and looked at his husband. This was his intended function in their relationship. Providing for Yuri. Not cooking for him, not pampering him. Providing. And yes, the Plisetskys had enough money to provide for both of them. But Otabek didn’t want to leech off of anyone else. Especially not his in-laws and _especially_ especially not after having to worry they would disown Yuri and him any minute. 

So he logically had to focus on Leo and the new business next. It wasn’t like they didn’t have a plan. For years both men joked around with different concepts. And they both took care of the family business for long enough to know what to look out for. Otabek didn’t doubt their ability to create something new. But he was also aware it would take a lot of time and resources until things would work in their favor. And until then, it meant investing, not profiting. 

Numbers were his strong suit, but no matter how many things he rearranged and adjusted, how many mental compromises he made … things didn’t work out. 

“Beka?” 

Was it morning already? Otabek blinked. Why were his eyes so dry? How long had he been staring at the screen, zoning out? He was a _great_ husband if he couldn’t even handle the strain millions of people had to deal with every day. “Hey, baby. Sleep, it’s still early.” 

Yuri huffed and curled against Otabek’s leg. “Lie back down. Can we cuddle?” 

“No. I have to work.” 

“It’s not even 7 AM. And you lost your job yesterd—” 

“Thank you, I am aware.” 

Yuri grumbled, then sat up and blinked at him. He looked so cute in the morning. But Otabek had no time for that. “What are you even working on?” 

“I’m trying to balance our finances.” Otabek couldn’t look away from the screen, couldn’t bear the potential disappointment in Yuri’s eyes once he realized his husband could no longer provide for them. 

“Why?” 

Now, Otabek had to look over, incredulity moving his features against his will. “What do you mean, why? You said it yourself. I lost my job! And there are a bunch of bills coming up that I have no idea how to pay without working, so …” 

Yuri rubbed his eyes, frowning. “Why are you getting loud?” 

Was he? Otabek recoiled. He noticed how quiet the apartment was, how much his voice must have carried. Otabek took a deep breath, hoping it would help to screw his head back on the right way. “Sorry, I … didn’t mean to.” 

Nodding, Yuri moved closer. He tried to cuddle up to Otabek, but the laptop was in the way. “Put it aside. You can work after breakfast. But until then—” 

“This literally can’t wait.”

“Why not? All the offices are closed over the holidays. What do you think you will achieve at 6:47 AM, on New Year’s Eve?” Otabek huffed. Yuri was right, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. Feeling powerless was new to him, new and scary. “Bekaaaaa. Come on. Put the laptop—”

“I’m working! I know the concept is foreign to you, but—” 

“HOLD UP.” Yuri bolted upright. He was no longer sleepy. Or cute. Instead, he shuffled away, mindful of the kittens around him, as he glared at Otabek. “If you have something to say, you better say it to my face, not the back of my head!” 

Did Otabek have something to say? He wasn’t sure. There were a dozen things running through his mind, of course, but … did he want to talk about them? Worrying Yuri wasn’t on his to-do list today. But apparently he had managed to enrage his husband already, anyway. So Otabek tried to measure his words carefully. “All I’m saying is, you …” 

“Aren’t working. I caught that. Loud and clear. Do you want me to? Get a job, I mean? Because I will. I fucking will. I don’t mind working alongside my studies, most people do! If that means you actually respect what I do—” 

“I do respect what you do.” 

“Really now? Because a second ago it didn’t sound like it!” 

Their verbal sparring was stopped by a knock on the door. Otabek cursed, then asked the intruder to enter. He didn’t need anyone with them right now, things were complicated enough as they were. But when Medina opened the door, teary-eyed and red-faced, Otabek was relieved he didn’t send her away. 

“Are you fighting … because of me?” 

Otabek looked at Yuri. How had she heard? Had they been that loud? And did that mean the entire living room knew, too? Fuck. Yuri looked just as unhappy. Turning back, Otabek opened his arms, laptop set aside now, anyway. “Айналайын.” 

Without hesitation, Medina rushed into the bedroom and tossed herself into their arms. Both of them. She seemed to refuse leaving Yuri out of the hug, which was kind of awkward, but on the other hand, probably exactly what they needed. “Please do not fight. I can … go. Maybe if I beg, they will let me—” 

“We do not beg. Unless we want to.” Yuri cupped her face. “We are proud. We are strong. We do not beg. We do not relent to the harmful ways of others just because they have the means to demand our submission. We do not crawl back. You aren’t alone and you will never be, künim. Do not beg, for anyone, unless you truly want to.” 

Medina’s eyes were small with exhaustion and old and new tears. She closed them and rested her forehead against Yuri’s shoulder. They were of equal height now, which looked almost comical in most situations when Medina decided he was supposed to baby her, but right now, she seemed to shrink until she seamlessly fit into Yuri’s embrace like a child.

It was so tender and painful, Otabek wanted to scream. “I’m sorry. I … I should have found another way. What I did, said, I …” 

“Do you regret it?” He hadn’t known Medina’s eyes could fill with more worry and pain, but there it was. 

“The fallout? Yes. Having you with us? Never.” 

She sniffled as a form of replying and closed her eyes again. “I can work, you know? I can … make money. I’ll find a way. And I can help with chores. I don’t have to go to school. I know it’s expensive and—” 

“Shh. No. Neither Yuri nor you will work. I will find a way. If anyone crawls back and begs, it will be me. I want you to live your dream and I will find a way to make it possible.” Somehow, Medina erased the tension of their fight earlier and filled it with warmth. 

Yuri cupped Otabek’s cheek and sighed. “I want you. You are the life I dreamed of. I _can_ work. I _can not_ lose you. Okay?” Defeated, Otabek nodded. Was this his life now? Things were hard to understand. 

Although once he laid back down, Medina between Yuri and him and all three of them snuggled into one big pile of limbs and misery, it felt simpler. At that moment, Otabek swore he would protect their family. How he was supposed to solve all those problems was still unclear, but he would find a way. Without crawling and begging. 

\----------

Help came from a direction he hadn’t expected. In the morning, the Plisetskys showed up with fresh bread rolls, cinnamon buns, and cake. They were confused when Mila opened the door, but quickly sorted through the events of the night in their heads. Otabek could see how they mentally cataloged the people on the floor, the bottles, chocolate wrappers, blankets, and movies. He readied himself for another fallout, but Ekaterina smiled at her son. “Oh, you had a sleepover?” 

Alexander looked less excited, but to his credit, he did his best to hide it. 

Once their original guests clued into who they were faced with, everyone started to scramble into their clothes, trying to clean as fast and efficiently as possible. It was then Otabek realized they truly had the best friends imaginable. Instead of abandoning them with the junk, everyone helped. Within minutes, the apartment was spotless, coffee was brewing, fruit was cut up, and the table set. 

Both of Yuri’s parents gaped at the efficiency and familiarity with which everyone moved. Otabek could not have been prouder. Especially when everyone lined up without touching the food they prepared, waiting to be sent off. Ekaterina shook her head and pointed at the bags they brought. “We … we might not have enough for everyone, but …”

Alexander nodded next to her. “Please don’t send your friends away. We would like to … get to know them.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but … Otabek had to admit he admired the Plisetskys trying. When he turned to let Yuri decide, there was the most innocent, warm, genuine smile on his husband’s face. Yuri’s parents seemed to notice it, too, because both of them relaxed visibly. 

“Is that okay with you? If we … all eat together?” Vigorous nodding from Yuri and a checking glance to see Otabek’s reaction. It was the easiest thing in the world for him to give this little bit of peace to his lover. So Otabek tipped his head, too. 

It took some rearranging and a few awkward glances, but in the end, everyone was seated with a plate of food. Their breakfast was a terrible mix of everything available, but somehow, it worked. 

When Leo and Otabek tried to discuss further business developments, Yuri hissed at them to at least let them eat in peace. It was to no avail, though, because Alexander overheard. He leaned over the table, then walked around to check what the two men were working on. “This is a business plan.” 

“Yes.” 

“What about the one your company already has? Improvements?” Fuck. Otabek didn’t feel like unloading all the bullshit yet again, but it couldn’t be helped. So he told Alexander what happened the day before. His face moved with Otabek’s words until it seemed to reach the status of a constipated mask. “Is that so?” For a moment, Otabek wondered if Alexander didn’t believe him, but then, Yuri’s father excused himself and left the table with his phone in hand. It was hard to interpret what he was doing, but when Alexander's quick, harsh Russian reached Otabek, he decided he didn’t want to listen in. 

If his assumption was correct and Alexander had indeed called Otabek’s own father … yeah. That wasn’t a battlefield he wanted to be on. 

And yes, maybe he should feel bad about Alexander getting into the entire situation. But this once, just this once, Otabek enjoyed relying on a powerful … friend? No. The Plisetskys weren’t his friends. They were his family, and they cooperated because Nikolai Plisetsky had told them to. He had to remind himself that allies came and went like the tide. And that he shouldn’t need _allies_ against his own family in the first place. But when Otabek got up to end this nonsense, Alexander returned on his own. 

“Please, Beka. Tell me more about that idea you are working on. We have been looking for companies to invest in for quite a while. And what company would be better than my son-in-law’s?” Otabek almost believed his smile. 

Almost. 

\-----------

When the flat emptied, it was almost 8 PM. On the one hand, it was remarkable that they managed to keep both the Plisetskys and their friends entertained for so long. But on the other hand, it had been exhausting and taxing. While Leo, Otabek, and Alexander had talked about the business for hours on end, Ekaterina spent her time teaching the others how to bake blini. Seung Gil was the first to leave at around 3 PM, Phichit went home an hour later. But the rest of the group stubbornly stayed. They even prepared an entire dinner. Otabek had no idea where they found the ingredients to cook for all of them, but somehow, they managed. He suspected someone went shopping in between but was too busy planning to verify it. 

To no one’s surprise, Alexander was a great businessman. Otabek was pretty savvy in most areas after leading an entire branch of their company for years, and still, Yuri’s father managed to teach him something new almost every ten minutes. Leo had started to write down almost everything Alexander said at some point. And when they were finally called to dinner, he managed to present Yuri with a pretty solid concept. 

For the first time that day, Otabek did not feel like a total loser. 

The experience of a family-and-friends dinner was almost surreal, especially because all their friends were queer as fuck and none of them hid it too well. After half an hour of discomfort, Ekaterina relaxed, though. Alexander followed after a while. So yeah, things with his own parents were shit right now, but Yuri’s family surprised Otabek in more than one way. But no matter how much Alexander had helped with the business ideas and how much Ekaterina had taught their friends, the one thing that made Otabek the happiest was Yuri’s smile. 

And Yuri kept smiling, all afternoon, all evening. Not the fake one, the tense porcelain smile of their wedding. It was real. His husband, his Yuri, was really smiling because his parents made an effort. Sure, sometimes they slipped up and spoke about _‘her’_ and _‘their daughter’_ . But Otabek could tell it wasn’t on purpose, and they kept correcting themselves and each other whenever it happened. Maybe it helped them to constantly hear Yuri referenced as _‘he’_ by all their friends, but whatever it was, when they left, Alexander wished him _‘a good night, my son’_ , and Yuri didn’t stop grinning for the entire hour afterward. 

Now, Yuri and Medina had officially confiscated his laptop and forced Otabek to sit with them and relax. So they made more hot chocolate, got themselves cozy blankets, and let Medina choose a movie. When Otabek stared outside, the sky was black. Faint light was mirrored in the blanket of snow that had fallen during the last week. Things looked calm, almost peaceful. 

He decided to give his brain a break for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise, a parent interaction that actually ends peacefully!  
> For once it was Beka who struggled a hell of a lot more here. Poor baby.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 7: Otabek faces a bunch of challenges now after the fallout with his parents. He is surprised when the Plisetskys show up and help them out. They spend the day getting to know Yuri's friends and make a conscious effort not to misgender Yuri. The night ends peacefully.

The fog in his brain was trying to pull him back under, but the hot wetness around his dick kept Otabek awake. Or, some semblance of _‘awake’_ , anyway. He forced his eyes open, even though he didn’t want to. Sleeping more was enticing, but waking up like this was a rollercoaster ride, too. And Otabek did not plan to miss it. 

“Good morning, махаббатым.” 

Yuri grinned at him, raising the blanket enough to make eye contact as he lowered his mouth further. Once his pretty lips were pressed flush against Otabek’s body, he began to swallow. Yuri was smirking the entire time. At least, as best as he could with his lips spread around a dick. Even after one and a half years, it was a mystery to Otabek how tiny Yuri managed to swallow all of him with so little struggle. But his husband was an enthusiast when it came to sex in general, and blowjobs specifically. Now, looking back, Otabek realized it had been a while. An eternity, when you asked horny Yuri. So he should have seen it coming, honestly. 

“Good morning to you, too.” Otabek couldn’t suppress the infatuated smile that stole onto his face. Yuri grinned back, pulled off, and kitten-licked the wet underside of Otabek’s dick. One of his hands was disappearing behind his own lithe body, the other was buried in the meat of Otabek’s hips. Within a moment, Yuri changed their positions. He crawled up Otabek’s body and began to actively engage in deep but gentle kisses. Otabek tasted precum and wondered how long Yuri had been teasing him. 

It must have been a while, he realized, when he finally focused on the light panting falling off Yuri’s lips. Otabek knew it would happen before Yuri reached behind himself with the other hand, too, and grabbed his husband’s cock. “Say yes.” 

“Yes.” 

“Fuck yeah.” Yuri reangled his hips, moved back, and cleanly worked Otabek into himself. That naughty minx. He came prepared. How long had Yuri been fingering himself while Otabek was sleeping peacefully? Didn’t matter, it was a gift for both of them. Raising his arms, Otabek grabbed his husband’s hips and steadied Yuri. The latter fell forward and moaned his approval into his husband’s neck. “Beka …” 

“I know. I know.” Otabek kissed his cheek. “It’s been too long.” 

“Far too long.” 

“Far too long.” Yuri whined on top of him, but Otabek knew it wasn’t discomfort but neediness. He really should have paid more attention. “I’m sorry, babe.” 

“Don’t be ... Life was shit ... Life is still shit ... But it’s a … little better now.” He grinned and bit Otabek’s shoulder. Arms wrapped around Yuri, Otabek softly groaned into his husband’s ear. 

“Yes … yes …” Yuri kept mouthing his neck and collar bone. Fuck, how had he lived without this man’s tongue on him? “You feel so good …” And Otabek didn’t mean it in the way porn actors kept mumbling the words, meaningless shells of true affection. Yuri did feel good. Actually good. Not just tight and wet and hot. Yuri felt like home, a promise of proximity, loyalty, strength. It was dumb. It was just sex. But it was so much more at the same time, and Otabek was incredibly grateful. 

“I missed you so much.” Another one of those sentences that should sound cliche, but somehow, Otabek knew exactly what Yuri meant. They had been together almost the entire time, but … with the house constantly full of people, there had barely been any chance for actual intimacy. 

“I love you. Are we making love?” He chuckled into Yuri’s ear and Yuri laughed back. 

“I guess. But I don’t care if we are lame and old now. It feels amazing. Don’t stop.” 

“I’m barely doing anything.” It was true, Yuri was doing all the work, gently riding Otabek with long, languid movements. 

“Then don’t start.” Well, that was easy. He leaned back and grabbed Yuri again, but this time, Otabek focused more on kisses and gentle whispers against the shell of his lover’s ear. His hands caressed arms, hips, Yuri’s back. Otabek was worshipping his king and he hummed in contentment. “We should do this more often. Like old people, Beka. Let’s fuck more like old people.” 

He chuckled and bit Yuri’s neck. “Old people are wild. I doubt they fuck like this.” 

“We do now.” 

  
“Evidently.” 

“Shut up.”  
  


“Okay.” 

Just to make sure, Yuri silenced him even more enthusiastically with a deep kiss. His movements sped up soon enough, but neither of them wanted a quick end. So they drew it out as much as they could, edged, played, and teased until they were both panting from the slightest movements. Yuri was completely flushed, red kissing the white skin on his chest into the most beautiful pattern Otabek had ever seen. 

“Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Otabek nodded against his lips, struggling to stop kissing long enough to form coherent thoughts. “Юрийым …” 

“I know. I know. Cum for me?” Yuri gave him the softest, most gentle smile in the world, and Otabek crumbled under him. The sensation was so much more than just the pleasure in his guts. Loving Yuri was a firework to all of Otabek’s senses and cumming like this was salvation. His body stuttered, unable to handle the entirety of his emotions. Yuri, his rock, his anchor, kissed him through it, guiding Otabek like a lighthouse. “I know. I love you. So much. So much, Altinym.” He groaned against Yuri’s lips. A few minutes later, Yuri followed him into the land of pleasure and bliss. 

When they lay next to each other, Otabek tried to hold his husband’s gaze, but his eyes kept falling shut. Yuri giggled, kissed him again and again, then rested his palm over Otabek’s eyes. 

“Sleep more, teddy. I’m here.” 

\----------

When he awoke again, the sun filtering through their blinds, Otabek startled. Shouldn’t he be at work? Or on his way there? But then, reality slowly settled into the cracks of his consciousness; no, he wouldn’t have to go there ever again. Fuck. 

On the one hand, that was a good thing because it meant Otabek had more freedom to pursue his dreams, and in the image of his own wild and adventurous plans. But on the other hand, the loss of security shocked and scared him. He had no time to wallow in self-pity, though. His family needed him. So he got up and walked into the kitchen. But the apartment was empty. Yuri left him a text message explaining they would be out for a bit, just Medina and him, and that Otabek should do something to relax. 

Another message explained Yuri had stolen his plans and blueprints, so Otabek actually would have to spend time on himself. With a smile, he swore never to tell Yuri about his cloud server and that the information he could potentially need was always available to him, wherever he went. 

Now, Otabek was stuck with himself. For a few moments, he walked around and cleaned the apartment, but then he realized that was probably not what his husband wanted. So he made himself a small breakfast of kazy sausages, halva, and black tea before Otabek settled in the bathtub. Throwing in Yuri’s bath bomb was a little ridiculous, but the fresh, herbal scent that enveloped him a second later, along with the soft green color, changed Otabek’s mind. 

He closed his eyes and willed his muscles to relax. For the first time in over 24 hours, Otabek allowed himself to think about what happened with his family. Yes. His parents had been angry about Medina and Chris. It made sense for them to be scandalized by their teenage daughter hugging a grown man if they didn’t know the circumstances. But that didn’t justify what happened. Nothing did. Otabek pressed a palm to his face but regretted it when the droplets tried to seep into his eyes. 

Once his hands were dried off, he grabbed his phone. Initially, all he planned was to play some music. But once he had the device in hand, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for answers to his questions. The internet was full of people with worries similar to his own. And Otabek was surprised by his findings. He had been out of touch with his parents’ religion for a while now, so he hadn’t been sure, but … comment threads across all platforms gave him hope. 

**Umman**

[ **_Re: Disowning your child?_ ** ](https://www.ummah.com/forum/forum/family-lifestyle-community-culture/islamic-lifestyle-social-issues/337499-disowning-your-child)

**_\-----_ **

**_Originally posted by Tamaties View Post_ **

_If he forsakes Islam or abuses Allah or his Rasool :saw: he is not my child._

**_\-----_ **

He is your child and you are responsible for him. Your children are a test or trial for you, and your actions or lack of actions will be judged by Allah swt alone.

"Each one of you is a caretaker (ra'iy) and is responsible for those under his care." (Reported by al-Bukhari and Muslim.)

"Allah will ask every caretaker (ra'iy) about the people under his care, and the man will be asked concerning the people of his household." (Reported by Ahmad, al-Nisai, and Abu Daoud)

 **Last edited by journey2jannah; 06-06-12, 03:13 PM**.

[ **Islamicity** ](http://www.islamicity.com/dialogue/Q153.HTM)

Disowning one's child

**Q153 :** _Can a father declare his son or daughter as not his and disinherit either one on the basis of indulging in un-Islamic behavior? Suppose a daughter marries a non-Muslim husband, can she be disinherited?_

**A153 :** No, it is not permissible for a father or a parent to disinherit his own son or daughter for any reason, as long as that son or daughter is a heir, which means that he or she is a Muslim. Only when the father and the child follow two different religions, inheritance between them is blocked. Therefore, if a father who used to belong to any other religion embraces Islam, while his children do not follow suit, neither can he inherit any of them, nor can they inherit him. This is based on the Prophet's Hadith: "The followers of two different religious do not inherit each other." If a child is guilty of disobedience to his parents, or if he indulges in forbidden and sinful practices, it is not open to the father to disinherit him or disown him. It is well-known that adoption is forbidden in Islam. Similarly, disowning one's own child is not permissible. A father may feel bitterly aggrieved by the disobedience of his son or his daughter, and he is tempted to deprive them of their shares of inheritance. He must not forget that these shares have been apportioned by Allah and it is not open to anyone to change Allah's rules. They should leave that to Allah to determine the best course and the suitable punishment, or indeed to reward the parents for what they suffer as a result of their children's undutifulness. Even if a daughter is "married" to a non-Muslim, her father may not disinherit her or disown her. Such a marriage is not acceptable or valid from the Islamic point of view. She is certainly guilty of a very grave sin. But her father should not sit in judgment of her. That judgment belongs to Allah alone. Her father may give her sound advice and try to persuade her against that marriage. When he has done that, he has discharged his duty. If she persists, he may boycott her if he wishes. But perhaps it is better to keep in touch with her, so that he may try to bring her around to follow the Islamic rules. If she does not listen and declares that she is not a Muslim, then she deprives herself of the right to inherit her Muslim parents, because she is an apostate.

[ **SeekersGuidance** ](https://seekersguidance.org/answers/shafii-fiqh/can-a-parent-disown-a-child/)

**_Question:_ **

_Assalamu alaykum_

_My father got upset and verbally said that he disowns me. After that incident, he never mentioned anything about it and he is maintaining usual relationship with me, as if nothing had happened. Does mentioning such thing put me out of his family for good?_

**Answer:**

Wa’alaykum assalam. Jazakum Allah khayr for your question.

There is nothing in Islam that results in disowning one’s child or putting them ‘out’ of the family. Verbal utterances in which one disowns a family member are wrong, as severing the ties of kinship is an enormity, but carry no legal consequence.

The Prophet ﷺ said, ‘The upholder of kinship ties is not the one who is kind to them if they are kind to him, rather the upholder of kinship ties is the one who, if his relatives cut him off, he upholds the ties of kinship with them.’ [al Bukhari].

Therefore, despite your father’s angry words, ignore them and carry on as normal, do your best to be patient and forgiving, and avoid confrontation.

May Allah bring peace to our hearts and homes.

Warmest salams,

**[Shaykh] Jamir Meah**

He read a bunch of other sources, but they all boiled down to a very simple answer. No. No, his parents couldn’t simply disown them, at least not if they wanted to adhere to their faith. Neither legally nor socially, at least not Medina. 

Otabek sighed. They would manage everything else. They would find a way to make things work, especially with the Plisetskys ready to help. But knowing he hadn’t screwed Medina’s entire life over by allowing her into his was … a relief. 

When Yuri and Medina eventually returned, a new cat bed and a bunch of books in paper bags with them, they smiled at one another. Otabek didn’t know where they managed to buy _anything_ on New Year’s eve without being squished by the masses of people that went late-shopping, but somehow they did. 

He curled his arms around his husband and placed small kisses over Yuri’s neck. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For being you. For taking care of me.” 

Yuri’s smile lit up the entire room. 

\----------

Twenty minutes after their doorbell started to chime almost constantly, Otabek received the notification that his parents would return to Almaty in two days. He was sure they would have preferred to leave immediately, but it was almost impossible to get a flight ticket right now. At least if you weren’t a Plisetsky. The fact that they even notified Otabek was a sign that not everything was lost. Sure, they probably did it so he would get Medina ready. But … Otabek struggled to care _why_ they maintained contact. What counted was that they did. 

Medina had received a few messages over the day, all with different quotes from one prophet or another. But again, both siblings were happy there was communication at all. She spent the evening curled up on one lap or another, either from Yuri, Otabek, Chris, Phichit, Minami, Mila, or Sara. Leo, Guang Hong, and Seung-Gil were rarer for Medina to approach. 

Maybe, if Otabek had known how terrible their Christmas would go, he wouldn’t have insisted on a party with all his friends. But they had planned this for at least half a year now, and the Altin apartment was the only one big enough to handle all of them somewhat comfortably, so the plan stayed. 

And on top of the logistics, they had tiny kittens. 

One hour before midnight, everyone was tipsy, talking animatedly and burying themselves in the remains of the Christmas cookie stash. Well, everyone but Medina, who glared every time someone refilled their glass and was probably the sole reason no one was properly drunk yet. She interacted with Chris and Phichit a lot, which was cute, because she was friends with both of them, but was also not so subtly trying to nudge them toward each other again. Seung Gil kept giving her angry looks, but Otabek wasn’t entirely sure if that was because she ignored him, tinkered with his relationship, or … well, was a woman. 

Besides, he had his own lap full of husband and cat to deal with. A buzzed Yuri was a happy Yuri, and a very, _very_ touchy one. Otabek had to pluck his hands out of his sweater a few times because the little beast kept insisting he wanted to warm them. Yeah. Sure. That was why he was scratching and kneading Otabek’s skin. It got to a point where Mila was making fun of them and that was unacceptable. Usually, she was the touchy drunk, but with Medina guarding the punch and the cocktails deliberately too watered down for her comfort, Mila was surprisingly lucid today. 

“Are you two okay?” Her grin expressed she wasn’t actually worried, just nosy. 

“Mmmhm-mhhhm.” Yuri hummed and rubbed his face against Otabek’s chest. 

“Shit, Yurochka. How did you manage to get so smashed with the darling guarding the alcohol as if she’s a dragon and the ladle is her gold?” 

Yuri giggled and squirmed more. Otabek wondered if he was wearing a plug. After all, it would fit him to want to start the new year with a bang. “‘m not drunk.” He was definitely drunk. “‘m just happy.” 

Otabek’s gaze moved downward to his smitten husband. “You are?” With all the bullshit going on right now, it was hard to believe. Although Otabek desperately wished it was true. He needed his Yuri to be happy as much as he needed air to breathe. So maybe, if it turned out that his husband was feeling better than he did, maybe Otabek would feel less like a total loser. 

“Yeah.” Yuri looked up at him as if he’d personally collected all the stars of the universe and laid them out in front of his lover. “Life is … good. We have each other. And so many friends. Look? They all want to be with _us_ instead of someone else. And we have kittens! And Medina! And I’m out, but my parents still talk to me. And I know you lost your job, but … money was never an issue and never will be. Please trust me. Just … you can now fulfill your own dreams! You don’t have to do what your father demands anymore. And papa and Leo support you!” 

Yuri reached up and caressed Otabek’s face with a smile so warm and fond, he couldn’t help but wonder why he had ever been worried. Yuri was right. Things would work out. They always would, as long as they had each other. Otabek leaned forward and pressed his lips to Yuri’s, kissing him as gently as his words had been. 

“Besides,” Yuri whispered, just to him alone, “we’re going to have a baby soon.” And Otabek’s heart threatened to burst with how full and warm and wonderful he felt about their little secret—until Mila’s shriek tore the calmness apart. 

“YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE A BABY?!” 

Fuck. He should have known they weren’t allowed to even think about it around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MILA KNOWS BEST. 
> 
> How is everyone? Take some gentle New Year's Love! ♥  
> Also, I am by no means an expert when it comes to Islamic traditions, laws, and concepts, so I research a LOT. I added the articles Otabek read because really, this is all I can say to this.
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 8: Yuri wakes Otabek to make love to him and helps him relax. Later on, Otabek researches his situation more in-depth and realizes, that a solution to the fight with his parents is nearer than he feared. The gang comes over for New Year's Eve and the night is calm and peaceful until Yuri accidentally reveals their baby plans.

“ARE YOU FOR REAL?” Mila hadn’t stopped screeching during the last twenty seconds, falling into a continuous stream of excitement and confusion. By now, Otabek was positive everyone heard the news. Medina stared at them with giant eyes. She knew it was a topic, but she hadn’t known there were precise plans. Shit, _Otabek_ hadn’t known there were precise plans. But unlike him, who was pretty sure a bus just rolled over him, Yuri looked around all smug and proud. 

So he really wanted to do this. It was not just a blink-and-you-will-miss-it idea, but actually … their plan? When Yuri’s eyes returned to him, and they were so soft and so fond and so full of love, realization crashed into Otabek. He wanted this, too. Wanted it for a while, had always wanted kids, just never expected to have any. Now, though, with Yuri … Yuri seemed to mirror his confused excitement because he nodded, and so did Otabek. 

The scream that followed nearly tore his eardrums apart, but Otabek couldn’t care less. He wanted a baby with the man he loved more than anything else in the world, and apparently, so did his lover. A split second later, the entire party glomped down on them, burying their hosts in a giant cuddle pile of love and hugs and well wishes and an extensive amount of shrieks and screams. Medina elbowed her way through all the adults and climbed onto them, which was a logistical challenge because Yuri was already sitting on Otabek. That didn’t stop her, though. She wiggled and moved around until she was satisfied with her position on top of their human mountain, then hugged her brother. 

“I am so proud of you. You are going to be such a great father. Both of you will be.” Her smile meant the world to Otabek. 

“How?” Mila was a little more relaxed now, but her overexcitement still radiated off of her in waves. 

“What do you mean, how?” Sara elbowed her with a grin. “What do you think?” 

She shrugged at her girlfriend, genuinely confused. “I don’t know. I didn’t think Yuri would let Beka put it in?” 

“Ew!” Medina frowned at the two women. “Can we not discuss this?” Her reaction was funny to Otabek because she had been Yuri’s partner in crime to get him laid more than once, so she was definitely acting shy for show. 

“Sexuality isn’t _‘ew’_ , sweetheart.” Mila pet her leg with a smile. “But I’m not too fond of discussing men and their coupling, either.” 

“That is a lie.” Yuri drowned his exposing words with a gulp of sparkling wine and a grin. 

Mila was known for her interest in every detail of every story anyone would tell her. She grinned back instead of giving a verbal answer. “Okay but, you aren’t going to carry a child to term, are you? That is just … not a good idea, dysphoria-wise. Right?” 

Yuri nodded. “Yeah. No. I can’t. I’m going to die a thousand fucking deaths when they insert that thing that sucks my eggs out.” 

“Language.” Otabek kissed his husband’s head, more as a distraction from the unpleasant thought than anything else. 

Chris looked mortified at the idea alone. “They don’t actually sucking eggs out, do they?”

Yuri nodded. “They totally do. It’s called vaginal ultrasound-guided aspiration. They put an ultrasound probe into you with a needle that passes through the vaginal wall and into the follicle to retrieve the egg. It’s _fun._ ” 

“And you really want to do that?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And then what? You can’t grow it in a lab, right?” 

“No, Chris. I can’t grow a baby in a lab. What the fuck?” 

“So what happens?” 

“Surrogacy happens,” Otabek interjected before the discussion could set anyone off. “We want to have a surrogate mother. She would then carry the fertilized egg, or eggs, to term.” 

Phichit stared, open-mouthed. “And it is one-hundred percent your baby? That is brilliant.” 

“Thanks, it was Yuri’s idea.” Yuri grinned smugly and nuzzled Otabek’s neck. He nodded to confirm his husband’s words but apparently was already drifting off into alcohol-induced baby dreams again. That, or he was horny. Otabek hoped for the former since Medina was still sitting half on top of them both. 

“You guys are so fucking lucky.” Sara huffed, causing most of the party to stare at her in confusion. “What? You can have a baby that is one-hundred percent your own. That’s so cool. Mila and I …” She bit her lip, looking as if she had said too much. 

Leo stared between the girls as if they had two heads each. “Oh my god, you want kids, too? Why does everyone suddenly want kids?” 

“Kids are cool,” Minami injected. 

He nodded toward Sara, who gave him a small, grateful smile. “It’s not … _suddenly_. We’ve wanted kids for a while, but …” 

“I will NOT let your brother impregnate me, Sara. I will NOT. I don’t care that he’s your twin. He is disgusting and weird and—”

“He wouldn’t want to fuck you anyway!” 

Never in his entire life had Otabek been so thankful for an alarm. It was only five minutes until midnight now, until the new year, until all the weird shit that had been his last week was behind them and they could focus on a future that was … brighter. Otabek sighed when right in front of their window, a firework exploded. Did those people struggle with premature ejaculation, too? If that was the case, the entirety of America had a problem. 

He silenced the alarm, and with it, the group fell quiet, too. It started out a little tense, but the longer they looked at each other, glasses raised and smiling, the more they eased into it. A minute to midnight, Medina stood and walked to the giant glass windows. They knew fireworks from Almaty, but this was a different sight. All the people in the streets, dancing, screaming, celebrating. All the colors filling the sky like artificial shooting stars. There for a second, then gone. Sirens in the distance. Because where there was new life and a beginning, there was also always an end. 

Bit by bit, everyone joined her. With the lights out in the apartment, they counted. Quietly, yet still there, a moment suspended in time. 

“Ten!” 

Ten people around him. Ten people he shared this moment with. Yuri, always his Yuri. Medina. Leo and Guang Hong, Minami, Chris, Phichit and Seung-Gil, Mila and Sara. 

“Nine!” 

Nine months it would take to create a new life. An endless time for him to wait, and yet, over in the blink of an eye. 

“Eight!” 

Eighth grade for Medina. If she managed to come to America, if their plan somehow worked out, she would go to school not far away. It would buy them one and a half years to decide how to proceed.

“Seven!” 

Seven sisters and no idea how things would be. How would they react? And did he really care? Otabek worried about one of them. But if the others couldn’t accept the person he loved, Otabek didn’t need them. 

“Six!” 

Six hours until his workday would start, if he still had a job. Six hours of sleep or worry or love. Now, Otabek could sleep in. He still wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. 

“Five!” 

Five rooms they had right now. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, the guest bedroom, and their own. The apartment was big. But it was empty in a way Otabek could never really describe. They had done their best to fill it. With their love, their plants, their personalities. Now it was time to outgrow the place and create something that would be entirely their own. 

“Four!” 

Four parents they somehow had to appease. Four parents they couldn’t live with, but also didn’t want to be without. Four people with strong opinions and ideas, well-meaning but sometimes misguided. Otabek hoped against hope there would be a way to fix things. 

“Three!” 

Three kittens hiding beneath their bed and a very proud mother. Axel, Lutz, and Loop were just as exhausting and wild as he had expected, but they enriched their lives every day. The sparkle in Yuri’s eyes every time he looked at them made it worth every minute. 

“Two!” 

Two years since his life changed completely when he went to another country to meet a bride he didn’t want. Two years since Otabek found the love of his life in the cold metropole, hidden away in a castle. Two years since his heart started beating in two chests at once, bound together by a red string of faith he didn’t believe in. 

“One!” 

One person he wanted to share all of this with, every second, every bit, even if it was ugly and even if it hurt. One person he promised himself to. One person who returned his love in ways Otabek did not understand. One person, who, instead of giving him a kiss, was now kneeling in front of him.

One ring. 

His own, stolen from their nightstand. 

One smile, one pair of lips Otabek wanted to kiss until he stopped existing. 

One answer. 

“Yes. Again and again. In this lifetime and the next. Yes.” 

He had a bride in Russia. Now he would have a groom in America. 

And a husband, everywhere. 

\---------- 

“You know I promised to ask you properly. Right? _I_ promised?” 

Yuri grinned against his lips. “I know. But traditionally, the man has to ask. And now, with my family’s blessing …” Otabek kissed him again. It didn’t matter what the Altins said. They would get an invitation, but that was it. If they did not want to come, they wouldn’t. Otabek wouldn’t beg for their love and attention. 

Next to them, Medina was sighing softly. She had known, apparently. Otabek learned later on that Yuri had spoken to her when they were out during the day and got her blessing, in place of Otabek’s parents. The rest didn’t react as calmly. People cheered and yowled, cried and squealed and hugged and kissed. 

Beautiful, crazy life. Yuri was right. Things would be hard, but they would work, somehow. They would be amazing because Yuri and he would will them into shape. For half an hour, they watched artificial shooting stars cross the sky, explode into a million bursts of color, and disappear again. A metaphor for life in a timelapse. It was up to them to decide how high they wanted to fly, how many colors they would like to spark, how much fire they would create. In the end, they would die with a glimmer of their former color, but until that inevitable burn up, Otabek swore to himself and their little family, he would make the most of his life. 

When he turned around, all he could see was beauty. Beauty in the way Yuri’s mint and jade and forest and lime eyes lit up, beauty in Medina’s childlike smile. There was beauty in the way Mila and Sara kissed, slower than usual, promising. Leo and Guang Hong were beautiful as they hugged, hands curled into the fabric of each other’s shirts because they couldn’t afford to let go even for one second. Beauty in the way Minami’s face lit up when he received a text message from someone Otabek knew nothing about. So far. He would ask. Whoever made their nugget this happy deserved a place at their table and in their hearts. Even in Chris, Phichit and Seung-Gil there was beauty. Quiet beauty, steadfast and strong, as they stood next to each other. A hug to one side, a quick kiss to the other. Poly relationships were foreign to Otabek, but even though he struggled to understand, he could see that all three men had some sort of love for another. Romantic, sexual, sensual, platonic. A lot was going on there, but in the end, their true beauty was that they could all still look each other in the eye. 

Next to him, Otabek’s husband-fiancé gasped. He held up his phone, showing Otabek a message in the group chat with his parents. 

There, white on leopard print, was a text bubble that read _‘Happy New Year, my son.’_

\----------

_‘Happy New Year, everyone.’_ Otabek sighed, staring at the message from his father in his family’s group chat. His sisters were already replying, some pictures sent. He wondered if he was welcome to answer. After all, Otabek had been kicked out of the company. Why was he still in the group chat? Were his parents trying to give them another chance? And if yes, would Otabek be willing to accept it? He sighed for the third time since he found the notification. 

Medina plopped down on the sofa next to him. “Are you going to reply?” She hadn’t said anything either, yet. “Are _we_ going to reply?” During dinner, Otabek shared with her what he found on their family situation. They agreed they were both angry, but ultimately, they wanted peace. To be the bigger people, even if they were the children. 

“I don’t know. I want to. For Ayana and Batima and ... “ He shrugged, not even sure if his sisters wanted to hear from him. “Maybe even a little bit for ana. She was furious, too. But when äke dragged her out …” 

“I’m not sure if she wanted to protect us or add to the pile.” Slumping against Otabek, Medina rested her head on his shoulder. She was barely any smaller than him now. Yuri hated that he had to look up the tiniest bit when they talked. 

“We can send a picture. Just the three of us. With Yuri the way he is. And everyone can decide on their own if they want to acknowledge us or not.” 

Medina nodded and pulled out her phone. “Isn’t it weird, though? They are in the same city as we are. And still, I’ve never felt as far away from them.” 

“What they said was not okay.” 

“I know.” A kiss to Otabek’s cheek, a placating smile. “I know.” 

Eventually, they gathered Yuri and themselves into a picture. Otabek and him made sure to show off their engagement rings along with the wedding bands. Medina next to them lit up the night brighter than any of the fireworks with the way she smiled. Before sending it, Otabek added a caption. 

**Otabek Altin**

**Yuri asked me to marry him again. This time, the real him.**

**You are invited if you want to come.**

At this point, his entire family would know about the gender situation. Ana was not a person to keep her mouth shut when things like that happened, and even though Otabek was sure not a single word about it was uttered outside of their core family, his sisters definitely knew. 

The group chat had been alive and going before they texted. Now, there was silence. Medina stared at her phone in the same manner as Otabek did. When glass clinked, then clashed behind them, Yuri kissed his cheek and jumped up to secure the mess before the kittens could find it. With a long, stressed exhale, Medina pocketed her phone, kissed Otabek’s temple, and walked off to help, too. 

But he stayed. Stubbornly. Waited it out, refused to leave and let it be. Otabek had stood up to his family’s values before, he would do so now, too. Maybe he could help with Medina, take her in, and raise her in a liberal way, but … he had six other, younger sisters and was not yet ready to give up on them. To give up on his parents. 

His oldest sister was the first. 

**Ayana Altin**

**Congratulations! I will try to be there. May the light of the almighty Allah guide you to a place in life where joys are endless and smiles never fade.**

He pressed the phone to his chest. Even if no one else replied, even if this was it, someone cared. Otabek got up and walked around to see if he could help with whatever happened in the kitchen earlier. He didn’t get too far, though, because his phone buzzed again. 

**Batima Altin**

**If you start walking, Allah will guide you towards salvation. Make a new beginning. May Allah clear all the hurdles in your way. I will try to join you for another big day.**

Medina hugged Otabek from the side, her phone under her nose, before he could even notice her coming. “I know you are not a believer, Beka. But …” 

“I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I know.” 

Not all of his sisters answered. Not all of the messages sounded genuine. He and Danata didn’t have too much of a good relationship, but Medina squeezed him extra tight when her message came in. She had recently moved out to marry her husband, and Otabek was grateful for her not being so close to Medina anymore. She had always been quite forceful. But overall, words to him and Yuri were kind, and a few of his sisters even wanted to attend their wedding. It filled Otabek with warmth. 

But possibly the biggest surprise was a message from his mother, asking if they could meet the next day. And after a quick consultation with Yuri and Medina, Otabek eventually agreed. Strangely, it helped him feel better when she mentioned the Plisetskys could join them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably one of my favorite chapters to write. I loved the countdown even though it half-broke my brain.  
> We have another proposal and messages from the family. What do you think? How do you feel? ♥
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 9: It's still New Year's Eve. They share their desire to expand their family with their friends. Otabek enjoys a silent celebration of New Year with them before Yuri surprises him with a proposal. Both men receive messages from their parents, the Altins ask them to meet.

Yuri buzzed with nervous energy, but Otabek understood why. His own parents barely accepted who he was. The Altins kept bouncing back and forth between trying to understand and trying to ban them from their lives. Medina was stuck between a rock and a hard place; she wanted nothing more than to stay with Otabek and Yuri but didn’t know if she could. Otabek himself wasn’t doing too much better. The night had been long and they went to bed far too late. Yuri still managed to convince him to celebrate their second engagement, though, even if it was slow and quiet. And now, Otabek was exhausted and agitated at the same time. 

His parents came three minutes too early, the Plisetskys following right after. Maybe they met outside, maybe they arrived together. Everything was a mystery, but Otabek was too wrung out to care. The two sets of parents joined their table before a girl with a wild haircut and haunted eyes scurried over to hand them the menus. 

Otabek made sure they offered halal food when he chose the restaurant, even though Yuri rolled his eyes. When he was asked about it, Yuri answered that he felt like the Altins could make an effort on their own, but then Otabek explained that he mostly had Medina in mind, and Yuri went silent immediately. 

It was the same silence that enveloped them now, full of thoughts, empty of words, and heavy with meaning. 

“So,” Alexander began, smiling at his son. It seemed less forced. “Thank you for inviting us. And a happy new year. America really is beautiful.” Smalltalk now? Really? What was going on? 

Yuri reached over the table and took Otabek’s hand. “We are going to get married. Again. Here in America.” His parents nodded, lips curled a bit too tight. But they tried. “I want to be a groom.” Alexander tipped his head, Ekaterina widened her smile. There were no crinkles around her eyes, causing Otabek to wonder if it was fake or botox. “To become a groom, officially, I need a legal gender change.” 

“Does it have to be—” 

“Yes.” Yuri glared at his mother, even though she hadn’t said much. “Yes, it does. It’s who I am. And I want to be free to express that.” 

Alexander sighed, but resignation blanketed his features. “And America will simply allow you to—” 

“No. No ‘simply’ is involved here. As of 2016, there were only five countries worldwide that allowed a ‘simple’ gender change. Argentina, Norway, Denmark, Ireland and—”

“But you aren’t a citizen of any of those. Right?” 

Yuri begrudgingly nodded at his father. “Right. In the United States, it is regionally different. There is no overall-law. And in Russia, unclear regulations, court decisions, and bureaucratic barriers can block changes in status.” 

Ekaterina’s smile had fallen away entirely now. “But, Yurochka. You know Russian law neither provides for the possession of dual citizenship, nor recognizes the foreign citizenship of its nationals. Everyone is treated as Russian citizens regardless of whether they have citizenship in a foreign country. So even if you change your gender here …” 

“But _here_ is where I live, mama.” She shut up after that, apparently handing the conversation to Alexander again. “I know it’s a lot. A lot of legal trouble. It will be time-consuming and exhausting and so much effort. But it’ll help me be who I am. I’m not asking you to accompany me on this path. But I am _offering_ it.” 

Both looked at each other. “Yura, you know we have to—”

“No. No, you don’t. You don’t have to do anything. I know deda wants you to try. I’m not dumb. But … you are your own person, just like I am my own person. If you don’t want to come along and be a part of my life, just say it. You wouldn’t be the first.” With the last sentence, he turned his head toward the Altins, emphasizing who exactly he meant with that statement. All of their parents seemed to shrink somehow. 

Otabek rested his palm on the small of Yuri’s back, offering him silent support. He had grown so much over the years. Strong, powerful, demanding Yuri. Otabek kissed his husband’s cheek with a proud smile. 

“And do you want to …” Ekaterina waved toward Yuri’s body, indicating his chest and lap with the twitch of her hand. 

“Get a sex change? Yeah. Maybe. One day. Not right now, though. I don’t plan to have the gender change right now, either. It will take time. The wedding will take time. Either you are in for the long run with your terribly complicated child, or you can leave right now.” She pursed her lips but nodded. 

For the first time, Otabek’s mother leaned forward. She gave Yuri a long look, eyes trailing over his body, then back to his eyes. They were searching, but not as scorching hot as they usually were. For some reason, his parents were very careful around Yuri now. Otabek suspected that reason sat next to them in a fancy suit for brunch in a dingy diner. “Why not now, though? You do not strike me as someone who hesitates.” 

And here they were, hitting the bulls-eye dead center. One question was enough to make Yuri straighten his spine and curl his lip in anger. Otabek and he had discussed for a while if they should tell their parents about the potential baby they planned for, but no result was achieved. Yuri felt like they shouldn’t talk to the Altins at all anymore, except maybe to get all the legal papers for Medina. Otabek wanted to try and repair what he could. Not to crawl back to them, but because he felt guilty on his sister’s behalf. He had introduced her to this way of life, to the concept of friendship cuddles knowing no gender lines. So, to some extent, Otabek blamed himself for his father’s outburst. He knew potential baby news wouldn’t mend that. But maybe, it would make things a little better. Not for him, but for Medina. 

“I do not _hesitate_ .” The _‘bitch’_ was implied. “I plan.” 

Her eyebrows shot up, along with the rest of their parents’. “What do you plan, then?” The _‘before a sex change’_ hung in the air, unsaid. 

Yuri groaned, threw his head back, and stared at Otabek. He smiled back. “Tell them.” For a moment, Yuri looked like he wanted to argue, to tell him they didn’t deserve to know, but then, he straightened back up. “Beka and I want to have a baby. And _no,_ I will not birth it. But we also won’t adopt. We want to …” He trailed off, looking over to Otabek. It was evident how much Yuri hated the topic, no matter if it was supposed to be something pleasant or not. 

“We want to use a surrogate,” he finished for his husband. “And no, we do not have any detailed plans yet. But we will approach that plan in the future. And you are invited to join us. _IF_ you accept who we are and how we are going to handle things.” 

The silence was tense yet again. Medina put her hand on his leg. But eventually, it was Ekaterina who stretched out her palm and offered it to Yuri with a tentative smile. “My … baby will have a baby.” And with that, Alexander began to smile, too. 

Otabek turned his head to look at his own parents, expecting them to look torn, maybe even disgusted. Adoption was haram, and even though this wasn’t exactly adoption since the child would be one hundred percent biologically theirs, the situation was … complicated. Otabek read an entire white paper on it. Technically, it should be fine, since Islam only demanded the preservation of lineage. So the child should be related to both parties of the married couple, which would be the case here. But on the other hand, involving a third party was absolutely not … ideal. And being transgender was another issue Islam didn't deal well with. 

Mukhannathun, or ‘men who resemble women’, were mentioned throughout the hadith and in a bunch of early Arabic and Islamic writings. They used to be strongly associated with music and entertainment. Funny enough, they were also connected to the city of Medina, a fact that made Otabek smile from time to time. The female equivalent, mutarajjilat _,_ along with the males, weren’t exactly acknowledged in a positive light. Various hadith mentioned that Muhammad cursed them and ordered his followers to remove them from their homes. 

But things were developing. During the late 1980s, Mufti Muhammad Sayyid Tantawy of Egypt issued a fatwa that supported the rights of those who fit the description to have sex reassignment surgery. Others associated the concept either with hermaphroditism or intersex individuals. Around the same time, Ayatollah Khomeini of Iran issued similar fatwas, in which he concerned intersex individuals and later transgender individuals. He specified that sex reassignment surgery was permissible for them. Otabek had done his research. 

But somehow, he did not expect his family to have in-depth knowledge of all those fine lines. Tension in his body forebode his expectation of being rejected again. 

Instead, however, his mother smiled. She stretched out her hand, too, first toward him, then in Yuri’s direction. The latter seemed completely lost, but he took it nonetheless. Maybe more out of confusion than anything else, but Otabek watched with wonder and amazement as things shifted into place. Slowly, yet steadily. 

“When?” Even his father’s eyes seemed … kinder now. It had been the right decision to tell them, even if Otabek still wasn’t sure they deserved to know. 

“Once we feel we have the emotional, social, and material stability to do so.” 

“I can help with at least one of those things.” His gaze shifted back to Otabek. What was about to come now? He didn’t expect his father’s next words. “I’m sorry, Beka. I … should not have sent that email. It was … more than unnecessary.” He didn’t have to specify _which_ email he meant. “You are very welcome to return to the office on Monday.” 

“Thank you.” Otabek swallowed, looked over at Yuri, and then at his father-in-law. “But no, thank you. I … think it’s time for me to do something … new. Something on my own.” He held his father’s gaze steadily when their eyes met again, even if it was hard. Yuri removed his hands out of his mother’s clasp to half-hug Otabek. 

“You want to … leave the company?” 

Otabek nodded. “I think I … have to.” A long look between the men, then his father leaned back and huffed. He was quite obviously _not_ pleased with that answer, but that only reassured Otabek. “We can cooperate. If you want to. I don’t plan to cut all ties if you don’t intend to. But … I have to be my own person.” Next to him, Yuri nodded along, rubbing his back with a smile. Otabek loved this man so much.

“And what are you going to do?” 

“Leo and I plan to work on our own project. It will … take a while to rebuild from nothing and to make a name for myself. But maybe that is exactly what I should do right now.”

“De La Iglesia? Yes, he … handed in his letter of resignation, I heard.” His father didn’t sound amused by that, either. But Otabek already suspected he wouldn’t be too happy losing his two core employees at the same time. Well, too bad. Had he not kicked Otabek out in a fit of rage, he would still have both. It was a challenge not to be smug about it. “But how do you plan to build a business from the bottom? You will need money for that. Money I am not sure you have if you plan to—” 

“That won’t be a problem.” Alexander smiled across the table. He seemed quite pleased with his role in their current situation, not much of his former discomfort was left. “I will take care of any financial struggle that may arise. And while I am very aware of _Beka_ being a highly successful businessman, I will not hesitate to offer him the budget to start a company of any size he dreams of. After all, he will have to provide for our … son. And their child.” He turned his head to look at Yuri, seeking approval for his wording and the context, which Yuri gave in return with a proud nod. 

“Oh. So … you are involved in this?” For a moment, Otabek was distracted when the server came over to receive their orders, but Yuri reassured him he would take care of it, so Otabek mentally returned to the conversation. 

“Yes.” Good thing Alexander apparently didn’t use the chance to throw him under the bus and go with _‘When you failed to provide for your child, he came to me.’_ He did, however, glance at Otabek and smile, which was enough to make Otabek’s own parent turn an unhealthy ashen shade. 

His father slowly shifted to look more directly into Otabek’s eyes. “You would rather work with—” 

"I would rather work with my family," Otabek cut in. Nothing good would have come out of that statement, anyway. "I don't care if it is family by birth or acquired family. If my family wants me in their proximity and is interested in supporting me, I will accept that. Gladly. I am not arrogant or rich enough to deny help. And I certainly don’t plan to isolate myself, my husband, or our future children by alienating someone who offers help. Especially when …” Otabek stopped. He would not finish that sentence the way his brain wanted him to. He would not throw around accusations like candy and push his own family away yet again, not when they’d all worked so hard on a solution. Instead, he sighed, eyes trained on the table, then on his father’s gaze. “I want what is best for my family. If someone helps me to achieve that, especially someone who has my personal benefits in mind, not just the numbers at the end of the month, I am grateful. And I will accept their help.” 

“We could all benefit from it,” Alexander offered. “Beka didn't say he does not want your help. He just said he appreciates mine. Well, not just mine but my father-in-law’s help, too, I suppose. Nikolai is a big fan of your son, did you know?” 

Otabek breathed a sigh of relief. Yes. Progress. This was good. He caught Medina’s smile from the corner of his eye. And although he could see it irked his father to hear Alexander use his diminutive so freely, Otabek was glad. Because it meant, hopefully, that the worst parts were over. He was so tired of the infighting and skeptical glances. All he wanted, all Yuri wanted, all Medina wanted, was a family to welcome them all. It was every child’s wish to be loved by their parents, after all. 

Drinks were brought to the table, along with the promise that food would soon follow. 

“Fine. And what now? We all work together to build something new?” 

Yuri turned to smile at his father-in-law. “That is what families usually do. I would … be happy to be able to do so, too. Yes. We want you in our lives, that is why we invited you. That is why we agreed to meet today. That is why we want to take Medina in and—” 

“Wait.” This time, it was Otabek’s mother who spoke up. “Medina?” The child in question looked up, eyes filled with panic. She had already accepted her fate and a future in America. Would they try to take that from her? 

“Yes, Medina.” Yuri squinted a little. It made him look distrustful, so Otabek hoped he was aware of what he was doing. “I have been told we will be her guardians now.” 

“You can not mean that.” Ekaterina looked between the two sets of Altins. “You want to—” 

But Yuri interrupted her right there. “No. _We_ want to. Medina asked a few times now if she could stay with us. Over short periods of time and over longer stretches. We want her here. She is happy here.” Otabek wondered if it shouldn’t be Medina saying so herself, but then realized they probably wouldn’t listen to her half as much as they did with Yuri. Which was ridiculous, but sadly, the truth. 

“Are you even … able to take care of a child?” Yuri gave Otabek’s mother a long, hard stare. 

“You’ve wanted me to pop out baby Altins since the day after our wedding one and a half years ago. I would think it is harder to take care of a baby than a teenager. Yet no one questioned my competence to do so for one second.” 

Otabek’s father rubbed a palm over his face, looking like he aged fifty years over the course of that entire conversation. “Medina is not an easy teenager. She has all these … unruly ideas and thought. All these wishes. She is nothing like your sisters.” 

“Good.” Otabek gave his sister a kind smile. “Because she is great the way she is.” 

“What about her education, though? She barely speaks English.” 

“She lived here for six weeks during the summer and got by just fine.” 

“And her religious education, Otabek? Will you take care of that, too?” His mother seemed convinced she had found a weak spot in their plan now. “Because I distinctly remember you telling us you would not raise children religiously, neither your own nor the ones of others. We can not allow you to corrupt her.” 

This time, it was Medina who spoke up. “I have a plan.” All heads turned to her. She flushed, and for a moment, Otabek was scared she’d be too overwhelmed to continue speaking, but then she pulled out her phone. “I made a presentation.” 

Otabek wanted to ask when she had done that. But it had to have been on the day he told her to. Damn, Medina was quick. She appeared to be just as clever as Yuri, and Otabek felt a little dumb next to them both right now, but it that a good thing, really. It meant they could teach him and help him grow, just like he could hopefully do for them. 

Medina talked her parents through the entirety of Fay boarding school, the immigration and transfer process, school fees, activities, dorm life, and a future after that school. It was evident they hadn’t been prepared for that. 

It was Alexander who spoke first. “I once … underestimated a young girl when she told me she wanted to study. I told her girls should not do that and instead stay at home and care for their husbands. I was wrong. In more than one way. Because that little girl was not a little girl. And even if she was … he was … as a parent, it would have been my task to support her. Him. It took me a while to understand. He moved out to live with a remarkable Kazakh man, you know? A man who can cook and likes his hair, short and long. A man who allowed he—him back into education. I … Maybe I should have been that man for my little girl, but I wasn’t. So I will try to be that man for my son, now.” He swallowed, looking at Yuri as if he was asking for forgiveness. 

The entire conversation was a mess, it was a hundred things at once and a pool filled with regret and missed chances. But it was also their chance to learn and grow. 

“Medina is as smart as her brother. As bright as my little girl and my big boy. You have the resources. Let her explore the world. She will come back once she feels like she is ready. But if you cage her in …” Ekaterina took her husband’s hand, then smiled and kissed Alexander’s cheek. There were small tear tracks on Yuri’s face, but he tried to hide them with his hair, so Otabek wouldn’t mention them. 

The irony of the entire situation was not lost on him. Apparently, on any of them. 

Otabek’s father looked at Medina for the longest time. “Is this really what you want?” 

She gave him a single, slow, determined nod. “I do. I promise, if I get the chance, I will make you proud. I will not disappoint you. I will grow and I will study, school and religion, and one day—” 

“You are a child, Medina. Just … try and be content. At the end of the day, your happiness—” 

“Is that a yes?” Otabek had never heard her sound so hopeful and full of fear at the same time. 

Their parents shared a long glance, sighed, but eventually nodded. Medina squealed with joy, hugged Yuri and Otabek, then catapulted herself across the table to hug her parents. The Plisetskys smiled. Otabek was pretty sure he would wake up any moment now because things went a little too well to actually work out. But his father gave him a firm nod, and he was still there, not in his bed. 

“You will take care of her. If anything happens, I will blame you. If she loses her connection to Allah, Otabek—” 

“I told you I will not raise her according to any religion. Not her and not anyone else. But I support her, and so does the school. She is in good hands here, and I promise to do whatever I can to ensure her safety and happiness.” Next to him, Medina grabbed Yuri’s hand. 

When they went to bed that night, Otabek felt lighter than he had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wholesome chapter for once, yeeeyyy! 
> 
> Also:  
> As you all know, all my knowledge on the topic is based on research. So here are the sources I used for that chapter in case someone wants to read more about the topics.
> 
> [ Islam, S., Nordin, R. B., Bin Shamsuddin, A. R., Mohd Nor, H. B., & Al-Mahmood, A. K. (2013). Ethics of surrogacy: a comparative study of Western secular and islamic bioethics. The Journal of IMA, 44(1), 44-1-5920. https://doi.org/10.5915/44-1-5920 ](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3708631/)
> 
> [ Sunan Abi Dawud » Book of General Behavior (Kitab Al-Adab) » (61) Chapter: The ruling regarding hermaphrodites. ](https://sunnah.com/abudawud/43/158)
> 
> [ Alipour, M (2016). "Islamic shari'a law, neotraditionalist Muslim scholars and transgender sex-reassignment surgery: A case study of Ayatollah Khomeini's and Sheikh al-Tantawi's fatwas". International Journal of Transgenderism. 17:1: 91–103. doi:10.1080/15532739.2016.1250239 ](https://www.semanticscholar.org/paper/Islamic-shari%27a-law%2C-neotraditionalist-Muslim-and-A-Alipour/d9d322e9bc08286152eaf080483557f17c65b58e)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 10: They meet with the Altins and Plisetskys to talk things out. All the current topics are discussed, from gender and sex change, marriage, and children over the business to Medina. In the end, things work out in their favor. Yuri postpones his transition in favor of the surrogacy process and Otabek won't return to his position in his father's company, but Medina is allowed to stay and both sets of parents support their wish to expand their family.

“This is our family recipe.” Yuri tugged on the apron he was wearing to make sure it was centered over his chest, then curled under Otabek’s arm. “You are sure you want to learn it? I know you have borscht in Kazakhstan, too. What if our mothers have different recipes and then they will fight?” 

Otabek smiled and kissed the top of his head. “They will fight, anyway. About who gets to hold the baby, about who gets to sleep in the bigger guest bedroom, about who gets to pick out suits with us. They are mothers. They will always fight.” 

Yuri laughed and to hear that noise was pure bliss. For the first time in what felt like forever, Otabek was alone with his husband, and they had the entire day to themselves. Medina had returned to Kazakhstan two days before, but only to take care of all the formalities. They would ensure she could finish the second part of the school year at Fay’s, but it was a lot to handle alongside a move, so she had agreed on going back for another two weeks to get things in order. And yesterday, the Plisetskys had left for Russia, but not without leaving Otabek and Yuri with a ridiculous cheque for an upper-class furniture store, so they could make sure  _ ‘they had a nice guest bedroom to return to’ _ . If they didn’t plan to buy golden curtains and a bed made from ivory, they could probably furnish half the house with it. Yuri and he hadn’t wanted to accept it, but Ekaterina shoved it into their mailbox with the notice that they could only return it in the Plisetskys’ name. And since neither of them was a Plisetsky at this point, they were stuck with it. 

But before they left and went to look at too expensive beds and mirrors and vases, Yuri had promised to teach Otabek how his family made borscht. 

“Start by peeling, grating, chopping, slicing, and dicing all of the vegetables.” Yuri pointed at beets, carrots, potatoes, celery ribs, bell peppers, and an onion. “The sliced potatoes stay in the water until they are ready to be used.” 

“Yes, sir.” Otabek smirked and earned a slap to his ass from a very delighted Yuri. He continued to pick up cats and bring them out of the kitchen, but the little beasts kept mounting the cat gates they had installed. “What now?” 

“Now I’m going to make sure Potya stops showing them how to annoy us, and—” 

“For the borscht.” 

“Oh! The borscht!” Yuri bowled Potya over the gate, trusting in the cat to find her landing on her own, then turned back to Otabek. “Now we prepare a large soup pot. Medium heat. With two tablespoons of olive oil. Then, you add the grated beets and sauté them for 10 minutes. Stir until they are soft.” 

“Understood.” 

For a while, Yuri remained in the kitchen, hugging and kissing his husband from time to time, until he seemed to get bored. “I can’t wait to pack our lives into little boxes and move. Again.” Otabek turned and gave him a sad smile. “No, no. It’s fine. It will be better this way. For the cats and the kids and … us, I guess. Though I will miss the city. I will miss being able to reach campus in fifteen minutes and the bars we visit on our pub crawls.” 

That was understandable. Everyone always said things wouldn’t change when people moved away, but they always did. And Otabek wondered if they would be able to keep in close contact with all of their friends. “You know, we have almost a dozen rooms. We could always bring urban city living to us and invite the others to move in.” Otabek chuckled, but Yuri tilted his head. 

“We could.” 

“Жаным? We are moving out so we have more space.” 

“We don’t need  _ more  _ space, though. We need efficient space. And you’re right. It would be a waste to keep all those rooms empty. Even with Medina getting her own room and us and, let’s say, two kids. That would fill five rooms. A guest bedroom for your parents and one for mine. And the other three? We don’t need three living rooms, Bekam.” Yuri was right. Of course Yuri was right. But Otabek wasn’t sure he had presented his lover with a great idea there. “More help to keep things clean. Someone to look out for the kids. Imagine Leo and Ji moving in! You could work from home. Or Mila and Sara. If they want kids, too, they could play with ours. I don’t think Chris, Phichit, and Seung-Gil would be clever, but Medina would be happy. Or Minami! He could help me with studying! And my chores.” Yuri sighed, and Otabek could see entire worlds developing inside his head. 

“Юрийым. We only have so many rooms. And I love them, I really do, but this sounds like so much chaos.” 

“I knooooow. And you aren’t that much into people.” Yuri sighed and buried his head between Otabek’s shoulder blades. “At least you love me. That’s pretty cool.” 

Otabek hummed, not trying to hide the pleased little smirk. “By the way, I think the beets are fine.” 

“Then add four cups of chicken broth and six cups of water.” He allowed Otabek to move again but hovered close by to watch. And Yuri kept taking pictures for his grandfather, who apparently was getting a live report on Otabek’s cooking. It was endearing the way Yuri’s eyes lit up whenever Nikolai texted him. He had been so afraid of the elder’s reaction to his transsexuality, they barely had contact over the last two years. But once Yuri learned his grandfather was a supporter, he increased his efforts tenfold. Now, they texted almost constantly. “Add the sliced potatoes and the carrots. Then you will have to cook it for ten to fifteen minutes until you can stab it without much effort.” 

While the potatoes cooked, Yuri placed a large skillet over medium heat and added more oil. “Hey! I thought I was supposed to cook!” Otabek stole the spot by gently bumping him to the side. So Yuri stuck out his tongue and left, but  _ ‘only to get Potya out of the kitchen, god damn it!’ _ .  __

“Add the chopped onion, celery, and bell pepper. Then sauté while you stir occasionally. When everything is soft and somewhat golden, add four tablespoons of ketchup and stir fry it for thirty seconds.” Otabek silently followed his husband’s instructions, who was scolding the ragdoll kitty again. “Do you think she is lonely? Maybe she misses Sebastian.” 

“Maybe. But we will spay her before they get to play again.” He grinned, but Yuri gave him a sour look. Nonetheless, though, Yuri didn’t fight him on the decision. Four kitties were enough. More than enough, if Otabek was asked. 

“Just chuck the stuff into the soup pot once you are done and let it cook with the potatoes.” 

For a while, they listened to music. Neither of them spoke, enjoying the relative silence. They did, however, keep kissing and touching. Both were relieved with the results of their last few incredibly exhausting days. After Alexander insisted, Otabek agreed to take a week off, now that the holiday stress was over, before he would start on their new project again. And Yuri would soon return to university, but his current semester was more focused on practical work than theory, so learning didn’t stress him as much this year. 

“I think you can add the can of beans now. Keep the juice. Also, add two bay leaves. Because, you know, you need to bay-leave in yourself.” 

“I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“A little. I do a little. When you make puns like that.” 

Yuri smirked and kissed Otabek’s cheek. “Some white vinegar now.” 

“Some?” 

“Two to three tablespoons. And one tablespoon of salt. A quarter spoon of pepper. Mmmmmhm. Pepper.” Yuri grinned blissfully before his attention returned to the recipe. He went ahead and pressed a garlic clove while Otabek added the spices, then handed it over with a cheeky grin. “Oh. And three tablespoons of chopped dill.” 

“I hate dill.” 

“You hate a lot today.” Yuri cupped his cheek and began to sing. “Will you dill love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?” 

Otabek shook his head. He was done with the world. “Why would you do this to me? How do you get up in the morning, look into a mirror, and decide,  _ ‘Today, I will break Beka’s spirit’ _ ?” 

“Okay, two things. I call you  _ Bekam  _ in my head, or teddy when you’re a good boy.  _ AND  _ I’m preparing you for our kids. Because they will be annoying as fuck, too. After all, they are a mix of you and me. And since you are apparently unwilling, I decided to take the role of father-making-the-terrible-dad-jokes. So I gotta practice my puns. I can’t just ... start out when they are here. I need to be ready.” 

“I hate how much I love you.” 

Yuri giggled and elbowed him. “Come on. Add the dill, let it simmer for a bit, and then it’s time to eat!” 

Otabek shook his head again, an endeared smile on his lips still. “I can’t believe I’ll marry you again.” 

  
“You already said  _ ‘yes’ _ ; no take-backs, no returns. You’re stuck with me, Altin.” 

“I couldn’t be happier, Altin.” 

\----------

“This is the worst idea you’ve had in a very long time.” 

“No, it’s not.” Yuri pulled him into the stall and closed the cabin door behind them, grinning wide at his husband. “This is a great idea. You remember when I thought we could have fluffy sofa cushions, and then Potya ate some of the fluff and vomited around the entire apartment, just for Lutz and Axel to fight over who gets to eat it?  _ That  _ is the worst idea I’ve had in a very long time.” While he was conversationally speaking, Yuri lowered himself to his knees. “I don’t know why you think this could be a problem. We are just two dudes going to the bathroom together. If you are quiet, no one will ever know.” 

“I  _ am  _ quiet. It’s you I’m worried about.” 

“You aren’t even sticking it in the fun end, stop being such a—” 

“I know for a  _ fact  _ you wouldn’t keep quiet if I put it into the fun end! Besides, this is your fault! You’ve been whispering naughty little things into my ear since the goddamn kitchen aisles. Why am I going through with this?!” 

“Because you get a blowjob out of it. Stop complaining.” Yuri’s words were harsh, but he kept looking up with a half-smile to ensure Otabek was really interested. “If you don’t want me to go down on you, tell me now. I will stop, you know I will. But if you are just acting shy, quit it. Because  _ if  _ someone comes in, it’ll be your whining that alerts them.” 

Otabek sighed and lowered his fly before he opened the button and pulled himself out. “Happy now?” 

“Almost. You martyr.” With an eye-roll, Yuri wrapped his lips around him. He smirked up, somehow still able to stretch his tiny mouth further through sheer force of will. 

“Why do you like this so much?” Yuri shrugged and closed his eyes, leaning forward, further and further until his lips connected with Otabek’s body. There, he sighed. “I’ve never met anyone who likes sucking dick half as much as you do.” 

He tried to talk casually through it, but only because Otabek was scared of losing his mind if he stopped clinging to normalcy. Yuri was the most pleasant assault on his senses, again and again. He was never the same yet still reliable. Otabek knew his mouth was hot and pink and silky like satin, but every time the soft lips wrapped around his dick, things were different. Yuri was reinventing himself every day and during his darkest hours, Otabek was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold up. One day, this kaleidoscopic person would realize how plain and boring Otabek was, and then he would pack his bags and leave. Or maybe Otabek was overthinking again because his mind couldn’t handle how Yuri knew him better than he knew himself. 

Yuri’s lips were wet and lovely, already giving way to too much spit. His husband was on his knees, drooling around his cock, in the middle of a furniture store bathroom, because Yuri couldn’t wait to get home to taste him. What a slut he was, a perfect, god-sent, beautiful slut, with droplets slip-sliding down his chin as he grinned. Yuri loved being watched and Otabek loved looking at him because really, there was never anything else he wanted to look at. 

Hands found Otabek’s ass and they dug into his jeans, begging for it to be skin as they hastily shifted to the belt of his pants and used it as a handle to pull them down. Yuri was a hundred things. Greedy was high on the list. But Yuri’s greed was special. It was not about money or resources. He didn’t need to own the fanciest car or the most expensive house, even if he could. Yuri’s greed was focused on immaterial things. He wanted all the knowledge in the world. He wanted perfect pirozhki, even if it meant cooking them six times in a row until he figured out the tiny tweaks in the recipe. He wanted Otabek to cum down his throat in the bathroom behind the oxford couches, and he wanted it to be quick and messy and a little bit degrading. 

So Otabek fulfilled his wish without thinking and pulled his pants down. He was Yuri’s for the taking. He would be for the rest of his life. And just like a dragon, Yuri took what he considered his and refused to give back because Yuri was greedy for love and affection and attention. And somehow, this beautiful, strong, marvelous soul had decided Otabek would be the person to bestow that gift upon. 

Nose brushing through coarse pubic hair, Yuri tilted his head to the side. He looked almost blissful now, eyes half-closed but still glinting in a way they only ever did for Otabek. He gathered the golden ponytail in his hand and held Yuri where he needed to be the most right now, and with the way blunt nails scratched and pressed into the skin of his ass, Otabek knew it was what Yuri needed. 

He should have seen the signs of his needy prince earlier. The way Yuri had wrapped around him when they cooked, the way Yuri’s feet came dangerously close to his groin under the fuzzy blanket while they ate on the sofa. On their way to the car, alone in the elevator, Yuri had flat out groped him with a cheeky grin. There at the latest, Otabek should have known he had to turn around and fuck his lover bent over the sofa. But he’d wanted to get to the furniture store, and now Otabek was paying the price. Admittedly, it was a nice price, easy to pay, but he wouldn’t have to stifle himself in a simple, uncomfortable stall now if he’d interpreted the signs correctly. 

Yuri smacked his ass and looked up with an angry frown. Oh shit. Did he say something? “What?” 

“Thop thinkin’. You’re ruining iph!” 

Oh. Otabek smiled and tightened his grip on the ponytail again. “Sorry. Do you want me to—” 

“Thop talkin’, thart phucking my phathe!” 

Well then. His grip on Yuri’s head shifted again so Otabek was cupping the back of his skull. A thumb trailed over the shorn hair, but Yuri’s glare brought him back to his task. He was the master and the slave at the same time with his lover. If anyone deserved the word  _ ‘powerbottom’ _ , it was Yuri Altin. 

Once Otabek gave up on his calm facade and allowed himself to lose himself in the moment, the pleasure quickly became overwhelming. They both broke each other down into the most basic pieces, just to rebuild one another again and again, stronger and stronger until they would bend only to each other and never break. 

Yuri moaned around him, eyes fluttering shut. He looked so serene, even though he shouldn’t with the way Otabek used his beautiful face for pleasure. Drool was covering them both, wet and searingly hot, just like the depths of Yuri’s throat. 

When Yuri opened his eyes again, the forest fire sparked enough to ignite embers in Otabek’s chest. He was burning up from the inside as heat wandered from his heart through his guts and into the bottom of his belly, where it began to rage, hotter and brighter until Yuri left him charred. He made his marks with such ease. Otabek couldn’t believe he was the lucky bastard that got to receive them. 

“Fuck, baby …” He wasn’t a vocal person, generally, even though Yuri brought out his sociable parts. But Otabek had to utter those small prayers because otherwise, they would choke him. Yuri needed to know how perfect he was, how beautiful, how unfailing. By now, Otabek was panting through his nose, and if he was honest with himself, he would have expected smoke. The way his body was alight with the flame of Yuri’s touch was incomprehensible. Or maybe it was just Otabek’s brain giving up because he now clenched around the base of his husband’s skull, pressing him close, keeping him where Otabek needed him the most. 

Somehow, his orgasm was too much and not enough at the same time. It overwhelmed him, had him swaying on his feet until his saint of a husband helped steady him, but … how could it already be over? How could he be done now when his entire body had been aflame only a few seconds ago? 

Otabek looked down. There he was, the love of his life, with a drool-slicked chin and hazy eyes. He pulled out, but delighted in the way Yuri tried to chase him. Wanting to be stuffed until he  _ had  _ to return to reality. Yuri never did anything half-heartedly. 

With a dull groan, Otabek slumped to the floor. He had tucked himself away, barely before his knees gave up, and now he was eye-level with the most beautiful creature of the world. “You still have a bit of cum on your lips.” 

Yuri’s fucked-out, pretty mouth morphed from an  _ ‘O’  _ to a smile, as he licked his lips. No one should look so serene cleaning cum off themselves, but there he was. Otabek had to wipe Yuri’s chin or else he would not have done it at all and just let it dry the way he was.  _ Fuck,  _ Yuri could be such a messy little thing. When Otabek swept his thumb under Yuri’s lower lip to clean away the saliva, his husband moved and did his best to get Otabek’s finger into his mouth. And because Yuri was greedy and deserved all the things he wanted, Otabek let him. 

“Still not done yet?” Teeth on the digit, Yuri pulled his lips into a smirk and shook his head. “Do you want me to take you home and take care of you?” An enthusiastic nod, eyes sparkling almost unnaturally. Yuri was the most beautiful creature on Earth, and Otabek’s heart leapt whenever he looked at this perfect man. 

They did not buy any furniture that day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING FINALLY, A BREATHER.   
> Some cooking, some sneaky fucking. That's it, that was the chapter.   
> I feel like they deserved this SO MUCH. What do you think? Do you like slower chapters, too?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap chapter 11: They make borscht and Otabek got a blowjob in a furniture store. That's it, that was the chapter.

Otabek rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand so he wouldn’t get any more pencil smudges on his face than he already had. They’d written, erased, and rewritten their plans around fifty times now, no hyperbole, and Otabek was exhausted. So much that he was working on paper now instead of a computer because his eyes hurt. He was getting old. Leo had disappeared into the kitchen again to get himself what must have been the eighteenth cup of tea or coffee since they started this morning. 

_ “Come on, Beka. It looks good so far. Planning a new business is a lot of work.” _ Alexander smiled at him through his tablet. 

“I know. I just … I know.” That didn’t help him suppress the yawn that made its way over his features. “I’m just … a little tired.” He tried to smile at his father-in-law but wasn’t sure how convincing his masquerade was. 

_ “Long night?” _

“Yeah.” 

_ “Did Yuri keep you up?” _

He had but not in the way Otabek wished it would have been. Just when Alexander laughed at his expression and began to console him, the door to their apartment opened. 

“... and I don’t care if it’s a hot take or not. You cannot possibly tell me thirty exclusively white artists as the semi-finalists in a Rob Guest Endowment aren’t a sign of somewhat institutionalized racism in the musical theatre field,  _ even  _ in Australia!” Mila rounded the corner and stood ramrod still when she noticed Otabek, the mountain of papers, and the tablet with the amused face of Alexander Plisetsky. 

From the hallway came Yuri’s voice. “I’m not saying it’s  _ NOT  _ racism, you need to listen! Of course it is! What I was saying was that a limited number of entries from BIPOC resulted in—oh.” He stopped in the doorway, then turned to Mila and whispered, “They have to encourage BIPOC to offer their work long before they even start to sort through the replies. Encouragement has to happen  _ before  _ the judging starts or a lot of white people will cry about a rigged—” 

“Юрийым?” 

“Sorry.” He grabbed Mila’s arm and pulled her toward the bedroom, before Yuri spun around, ran back in, kissed Otabek’s cheek, and waved at the camera. “Hi, papa! Be kind to Beka, he barely slept.” 

“I can imagine.” Mila, who had returned to the living room just for that comment, smirked at the couple. 

“Shut up, we kept talking about babies.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “What I’m saying is, a lack of engagement from diverse creators usually stems from a problem with the organizational concept of a competition or—” It didn’t happen often that Otabek was grateful for a door falling shut between them, but right now, he really needed to focus. 

_ “Institutionalized racism, huh?” _ Alexander grinned, but his eyebrows were raised.  _ “What happened to the youth that went out for coffee and talked about other people’s clothes?” _

Otabek answered without thinking.“They went out and got an education.” Now, Alexander was staring at him, and it took a moment for Otabek to grasp why. He was so damn tired. “Oh! I didn’t mean that as an accusation or—” 

_ “It’s okay. It’s … yeah, no, I deserved that. I should have let Yuri do … his thing. And go to school. It’s obvious how happy he is with it. I’m glad you … yeah.” _

“Yeah.” Otabek nodded toward the screen, but holy shit, he was uncomfortable. Leo returning with some sort of herbal tea was his saving grace. “Okay. I guess we … have the core concept down now.” 

_ “Are you going to talk to your father about it?”  _

Otabek nodded begrudgingly. He would have to. 

\----------

“Beka?” 

“Hmm?” 

“How mentally asleep are you?” 

“Eight.” 

“From one to ten?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Yuri squirmed on his seat, pulling the blanket over his legs. It was getting warmer now, slowly, but the end of February was still far away from any semblance of summer. 

“Why?” He didn’t need his brain’s full capacity to see something was bothering Yuri. Was this about his upcoming birthday? 

“Nothing.” Well then. Otabek was tempted to leave it be. Yuri obviously didn’t want to talk about it. But he squirmed again, so it was probably important. 

“Please talk to me, махаббатым.” Yuri blushed a little, which was always a good sign because it ruled out something between them being wrong. So Otabek straightened up and opened his arms. “Come here and tell me what is on your mind?” Uncertainty was a weird look on his husband, but Yuri raised from his seat and walked over to Otabek, where he slumped into a half-embrace. “Is this about your birthday?” Yuri shook his head. No. Okay. “Is it … about Medina?” Another no. She recently moved into her dorm room and twice already Yuri got into a fit of worry over her being alone in a foreign country. “My job?” Yuri shook his head again and buried his face against Otabek’s neck. Something he did when he was extraordinarily distressed. Otabek was glad he had insisted on the conversation now. “The baby?” A tiny nod against his shoulder. 

Oh. Well, damn. That would probably mean another night with two hours of sleep. No wonder Yuri was hesitant to mention it. They were still waiting to hear back from the agency, either with more information on the fertilization concept or with answers to their surrogate mother inquiry. 

Late at night when he was exhausted, but not tired enough to fall asleep, Yuri tended to tumble into dark spirals. Which was why they barely slept recently. They didn’t necessarily talk, most of the time Otabek simply held his husband. But he knew, inside his brilliant, yet self-sabotaging head, Yuri was blaming himself for the complexity of their chosen way. It didn’t matter how much Otabek reassured him. Not even when their parents did. Because Yuri’s emotions weren’t rational. So logic alone wouldn’t solve the problem. 

Otabek rubbed his back, fighting hard against a worried sigh because it would potentially send the wrong signals. A few sniffles were pressed against the collar of his shirt, but then Yuri sat up again, almost straight, and looked Otabek in the eye. “I might have a solution. We might.” 

He frowned. “Might?” 

“Yeah.” Yuri worried his lip. “With the surrogate and all.” 

“Yura!” Otabek almost jumped up, but he didn’t want to topple Yuri over. So it turned into a little bob instead, his husband pressed close to his chest. “That’s amazing news!” 

“Yeah, uhm. It could be. Or you’ll hate it and we have to start anew. Unless you decide to divorce me, which would mean—” 

“I would never divorce you.” 

Yuri pursed his lips and tilted his head, eyes so full of uncertainty, Otabek wanted to kiss him just so they would be closed, until he filled Yuri with the warmth and joy and love again, piece by piece, that he deserved. But at the same time, he didn’t want to hush his partner, so Otabek held back until Yuri filled the silence again. “I have to ask something of you that you might not like. You can say no, of course. But …” He trailed off, unsure of his proposal. 

“Please just tell me, Юрийым.” 

“New Year’s Eve. You remember the party?” 

“Yes.” 

“We talked about having a baby. Mila screamed and Sara sulked and Minami thought it was cool and Leo was confused and … I’m rambling. But … You remember, right?” 

Otabek frowned, unsure where this conversation was going. “Yes. I remember.” 

“I talked to Mila.” He bit his lip and watched Otabek for the longest moment. “I talked to her about being parents and what it’s like and that it’s something we’ve wanted for a while but that is complicated. And we joked around, you know? About Sara and her and … suddenly, I remembered the party.” Otabek’s neck prickled. There were a few ways this could go and he wasn’t sure he liked them. Still, he nodded for Yuri to go on. Biting his lip again, Yuri obviously did his best to wrestle the words in his mind into shape. “Well. They want a baby. We want a baby. And … they have two wombs, but …” Oh. 

Otabek’s brows moved into his hairline, his eyes opened as far as they would go, and his chin dropped. “You do  _ not  _ seriously want me to fuck one of them? Or  _ both _ ?!” Yuri groaned and punched his upper arm, but the redness in his face conveyed it was more uneasiness than annoyance. 

“Of course not! They just … They need a donor. And we need a surrogate.” Otabek dropped back against the sofa. That was … a lot. At some point, his eyebrows had naturally lowered themselves, but he pulled them up yet again. “You hate it. I knew you would hate it! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything!” Yuri seemed to be somewhere between desperate, hurt, and accusatory. “I knew you wouldn’t want this. I’m sorry, but you made me talk to you, okay?!” 

“Yuri. Yura. Yurka.” He tried to hold on to his husband, who at this point was doing his humanely best to squirm out of Otabek’s grasp. “Алтыным!” Yuri paused; Altinym almost always worked. Which was why Otabek rarely used it. “I didn’t say I hate it.” 

“You didn’t have to!” 

“I’m just … overwhelmed!” He swallowed, putting in conscious effort not to raise his voice anymore. “I’m sorry, okay? I … this is a lot. Let me at least think about it for a moment before you run away from me.” 

Yuri pouted and melted against him. “I didn’t want to run away.” 

“Then why didn’t you listen when I asked you to stay?” 

“I thought you needed room!” 

“I  _ do _ , but that doesn’t equal  _ room without you in it _ !” Deep breath, they both tried to calm down as they spoke. Neither of them was interested in this conversation blowing up. “Please, baby. Just … one second.” Yuri slumped against him again, all the fight gone from his pliant body. 

For a few minutes, they simply sat in silence. Not even the cats were mewling anymore, it was that late. They were probably already in bed, sleeping contently. Otabek’s hand winded into the blanket, tugging on the fabric until he realized Yuri was sitting on it and staring down at the source of the pulling motion. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

Otabek wasn’t sure they were talking about the blanket. He pressed Yuri into an even tighter embrace and his husband went willingly. “I need to … talk to the girls. Okay? I need to know more about the situation. Right now, it’s just …” 

“A lot.” 

“A lot. Yes.” He pressed his forehead to Yuri’s, who moved enough to allow a kiss between them. 

“Don’t force yourself. I know it’s a giant thing. I don’t want you to feel … obliged. We will find a surrogate. One way or another.” Otabek sighed and Yuri kissed him again. “I love you so fucking much, Altin. We will find a way. We always do.” 

He pressed a kiss against Yuri’s lips, hiding a tiny smile. “I know we will, baby. As long as we’ve got each other, we can do anything.” 

\---------

Yuri blew out the candles on his birthday cake, splattering cheap wax all over the glaze. “FUCK.” He sighed and picked at it, but it hadn’t hardened yet and therefore only spread further. “FUCK!” 

Medina giggled and hugged him softly. “Don’t worry. It was just the practice cake. You’ll get a larger one for the actual party.” She squeezed Yuri, then whispered birthday wishes into his ear, first in Kazakh, then Russian. Medina finished off her congratulations with an English birthday song that was just a little off, and Yuri beamed as if she had given him the key to her heart and a chocolate fountain on top. 

Hey, a chocolate fountain. Otabek quickly texted Leo to organize one for later. He had made sure to congratulate Yuri right at midnight. And in a few minutes, when they would go to bed, he would give Yuri his best wishes again. All three of them knew it. Medina was already wearing headphones around her neck in a not so subtle gesture of approval. 

“I’m glad you could make it.” It was Friday night, and Medina had taken the first train after school, but it still took her over five hours to arrive at the train station near them. Normally, her dormmate’s mom would bring Medina on Saturday and take her back to school on Sunday evening, but she wanted to be there for the midnight celebration, and so she gladly accepted the ridiculous train ride. 

“Me, too. I would have never forgiven myself if I missed your birthday.” 

“You wouldn’t have  _ missed  _ it. You would have been here around lunch.” 

“Which means I would have  _ missed the first twelve hours. _ ” She hugged Yuri tight. Otabek would have been jealous if she wasn’t his baby sister. Or a girl. 

“Nothing will make me get up before 10.” Yuri shrugged and kissed the top of her head. Medina seemed unimpressed and unbothered by that information. 

“Which means I have at least two more hours with you. PLUS the time we have right now!” What were they supposed to say against that? Otabek chuckled, which earned him a happy smile from his sister. “Ana and äke said they want to call in the evening? They mentioned you … gave them a time?” 

Yuri nodded. “My parents will call at the same time. That way, we only have to deal with them once.” He grinned and winked at Medina, to which she replied with warm laughter. 

“Well then. Okay, I had to get up at six today, so … I think I’ll head to bed?” Her gaze went to Otabek, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. That little beast. He nodded, grateful beyond words. “Well then. Have a good night. Oh! And can the kitties sleep in my bed tonight? I missed them.” Somehow, her smile was even more mischievous. 

Why were they even pretending? Medina could just as well have said,  _ ‘Listen, I am going to sleep now, but I have my headphones ready. I’ll also take the cats so you can fuck in peace. Nighty!’ _ . Otabek couldn’t hide his smirk as he shook his head, endeared by her bubbly personality. 

“Yes, please.” 

Medina jumped up and hurried through the apartment, gathering kitty after kitty, until she locked herself in her room. “Good niiiight! I love youuuuu!” 

Otabek wanted to answer, but he immediately had his lap full of grinding husband. Oh well. It was his birthday after all. 

"Hi there, tiger." He smirked and grabbed Yuri's ass, placing a gentle kiss on his lover's cheek, then the other, then his mouth. "Can I take you away, baby?" Yuri nodded, obviously interested in what Otabek had to offer. "What would you like to do tonight, sweetheart? It's your birthday. You can choose." Yuri pouted, perhaps he had expected something special. "Oh come on. I'm not going to go with something  _ too  _ freaky, Medina is still here after all." Yuri's pout dissolved and he began to nibble on Otabek's neck, while the other carried him to the bedroom. "One of the harnesses? Toys? Hands and teeth? My dick? How can I make you happy?" 

It wasn't like Yuri not to respond to a question like that, but … all his lover did was blush and look away. 

Raising his eyebrows, Otabek leaned back and kept watching him intently. Eventually, Yuri cleared his throat. But he didn't speak immediately, and just when Otabek thought he'd have to jump in and do  _ something _ , Yuri huffed. 

"I want to … uhm … bondage." What? Otabek blinked. Oh. Okay. He could … try. But he knew nothing about the topic, so he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to give his lover what he wanted or needed. The idea of disappointing Yuri was unpleasant, but before Otabek could say anything more on the topic, Yuri kept mumbling. “Wanna … tie you up …” 

Oh! OOOOH! 

His surprise must have shown on his face because Yuri immediately tried to backpedal. “I know. It’s weird. I’m sorry. I … didn’t mean to startle you. We can just … we can just make out? And see where it takes us, yes, Bekam?” 

But no, no they could not! Otabek was a man on a mission and that mission was to let Yuri have the best sex he could give his husband. Not just for his birthday, but  _ especially  _ today. “No, махаббатым. I … I wanna try.” He nodded at his husband, eyes wide. “I … haven’t done anything like that yet, not really, but … I would like to try? If you want to? I was just scared you would want  _ me  _ to tie  _ you  _ up. Because I don’t know anything about it.” 

Yuri perked up, ramrod straight, eyes alight with a fire Otabek loved so much. “So you … are okay with it?” 

“More than okay. Yes. Sure. I just … we don’t have any rope, right?” 

The flush turning his lover’s skin hot festered and Yuri looked to the side. This time not with shame but with determination. “I bought some?” 

“Oh.” 

“Is that okay?” His eyes were back on Otabek, and it almost broke his heart to see how fast Yuri still switched between looking a hundred percent sure of himself and that insecurity that came with doing something majorly wrong in a repressive society. 

“Of course it is. I just … admire how prepared you are.” 

Tension seemed to melt out of Yuri’s shoulders as he snuggled closer to his husband. “I‘ve … wanted this for a while. But I thought you might not like it.” 

“Since when?” 

“Since … Halloween. When we … the tights? You remember?” 

How could Otabek forget? He very rarely touched himself, mostly because there was no need for self-satisfaction with a partner as excited and greedy as his husband, but when he did, that was a very fond thought. “Tie me up, baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you saw that coming.   
> Not the bondage, but Mila and Sara potentially becoming surrogates. :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 recap: Otabek works more on his business, Yuri asks him about surrogacy as an option with Mila and it's Yuri's birthday. They celebrate with Medina at midnight. When Otabek takes Yuri to their room, Yuri confesses to wanting to tie him up.

“Tie me up, baby.” 

Yuri began to buzz immediately. Otabek tried to carry him to the bedroom, but he jumped up, rushed over and grabbed a small bag from a drawer in his nightstand. Otabek grinned once he entered the room and watched in fascination as Yuri continued to pull out a long, black rope. 

“It’s hemp. Cool, right? Chris said it’s the best material to use.” 

“Chris, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Yuri wrinkled his nose. Of course it was Chris he had that knowledge from. Who else in their friendship group would be involved in bondage play? Probably Phichit, Otabek reminded himself, but apparently no longer together. As if Yuri read his thoughts, he settled next to him and gave Otabek a side glance. “He, uhm. He … He plays. With … uh …” Otabek expected a lot of names to follow, but the one that came was not on that extensive list. “Minami.” 

“What?” 

“I know. I didn’t ask.” Suddenly, Chris joking about the younger man when he spoke about his breakup with Phichit made a lot more sense. “They don’t fuck, though. I know that much. It’s just … consensual kink?” 

That wasn’t something Otabek wanted to think about right now. He nodded to show he had listened and gathered Yuri against his side. “I would rather hear about you and your kinks.” 

Yuri snickered and climbed onto Otabek’s lap. “You are my kink. And everything we get to explore together. I just … want to enjoy something together with you. Try something new. Every first experience I have with you is something special. And I want you to have all my firsts. So … can we try?” 

“Yes. Have you tried it before?” 

“Chris showed me a bunch of things. But I didn’t try them out. Because as I said … First experiences with you.” 

Otabek nodded, a fond smile tugging on his lips. “Thank you, жаным.” 

For a moment, they simply held each other, then Yuri leaned back. “I think I’m ready. How about you?” A tipped head followed as a way of confirmation. Yuri answered with a soft smile. “Just … talk to me. Okay? If you can, basically the entire time. So I know if things are comfortable or too tight or not tight enough or if you don’t like it at all or …” He seemed to lose where his line of thoughts was going. 

“I promise I will tell you.” 

“Okay.” Yuri grabbed the rope and studied it for a moment, letting it run through his fingers and over his skin. “I … think I might start with a [simple chest harness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbA7iqJc0Bc)? That shouldn’t take too long and …” 

“It’s okay if it takes a while. It’s okay if you do something wrong and you have to start again. It’s both our first times. Remember?” Otabek tugged his shirt off, allowing access to his chest. 

Yuri’s smile was back in place and he squeezed the rope in his hands. “Let’s go!” He started from the middle of the rope and folded it, then placed it over Otabek’s pectorals. “If it’s too rough or too tight—” 

“I will tell you. But right now, it feels very nice.” 

Yuri nodded, his face almost shy in the way his eyes crinkled and his lips curled. He crawled off of Otabek’s lap and moved behind him, to pull the ends of the rope through the loop he created. It took a moment because there was so much of it, but somehow, that was endearing to Otabek. Yuri was so _eager._ The ends of the rope were passed around his upper body again and around his chest, this time underneath his pectorals. Yuri then hooked the ends through the back again, reversing the tension. Now, Otabek had a cross of rope on his back and two parallel lines over his chest. 

It was … constricting in a way. In a good way. He tried breathing in deeply, but Yuri smacked his shoulder. “Don’t test the ropes yet, I’m not done. You might loosen them!” But he giggled as he spoke, so Otabek was fairly sure his lover wasn’t actually angry. He continued to make an overhand knot to secure the ropes, as he explained to Otabek, even though the latter had no idea what that meant. “Now, you can try to breathe in. Comfortable?” Otabek nodded with a gentle smile. He hadn’t expected it to feel that nice. “Good.” 

Yuri continued to pass the end of the rope over his shoulder, then wound it around the bottom line over his chest. He wrapped the rope around itself two times, and Otabek had to admit it looked quite pretty before the strand was thrown over his other shoulder again. Yuri then proceeded to weave the end of the rope around the knot on his back. He explained to Otabek what he was doing to help him feel more secure. 

“I left a loop at the bottom of the entire thing, beneath the knot, and now I am working the strand of rope through it.” He tightened his creation and finished it with what he called another overhand knot before he dropped the ends against Otabek’s back. “Is everything parallel and nothing twisting over itself?” Otabek shook his head, transfixed by the structure on his chest. Yuri had taken a mere three minutes to put it there. “Do you … uhm … is it …” 

“It’s great,” he breathed, eyes barely leaving the woven thread around his body. “I, uhm … it feels great. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Yuri’s eyes went wide and hopeful, and Otabek would have chuckled, but he couldn’t. He felt breathless all of a sudden. Not because the rope was wrong, but because the rope was _right._

“Yeah. Can I … do you mind if I keep it on?” 

“Not at all.” Yuri was squirming next to him, chewing his lip. He was obviously excited, just like Otabek. “What are we, uhm, going to do now?” 

Otabek was beginning to bite his own lip, mirroring what Yuri was doing in a subconscious attempt to seem likable and attractive to his husband. “Whatever you want, baby. It’s your birthday.” 

“I would … really like to ride you.” His voice was a mere whisper, silenced by some unknown force that seemed to have fallen over both of them, keeping their breaths bated and their touches soft. “I want to ride you and to look into your eyes when you cum inside of me.” Somehow, Yuri’s words were a love confession, hidden away in lewd murmurs. 

“Please.” 

He was on top of Otabek in a heartbeat, clothes discarded in a flurry of movements too fast for his sluggish brain. When had things gotten so foggy and warm? 

They were kissing before Otabek even had the chance to grab Yuri’s ass, but once both of their minds seemed to catch up, they were storms crashing into one another. High tides rolling and collapsing, crashing into one another with force and purpose. Everything seemed to happen at once. Otabek was too slow to even catch up with his own hands. Yuri guided them to his entrance, and suddenly there was lube on his fingers and one was inside his lover. 

Otabek groaned, low and raspy, trying to get oxygen back into his brain. But his airflow was not restricted. The rope was neither too tight nor misplaced. He was just too fucking horny to think. Once he realized he could blame no one but himself, Otabek whined and moaned into Yuri’s mouth, begging his husband pathetically for the salvation he needed. Desperate. Needy. It wasn’t easy to turn him into a mess, but apparently, one strand of well-placed rope and some sensual touches was all he needed. 

_Yuri_ had to remind _him_ of Medina. The thought of his sister trying to sleep across the hall was helping, but not much. Otabek was shocked by his own reaction, but not enough to stop. Especially not when the effect on Yuri began to unfold. Because it seemed to take him a moment to register what was going on, _why_ things were so different from one moment to the next. 

“Fuck. You … really are into this?” Otabek nodded, too stupefied to use words like an actual adult. Was he drooling? He hoped not. Yuri’s face scrunched up, and for a moment, Otabek wasn’t sure if he said something wrong, but then his husband threw his head back and exhaled languidly. “Holy shit. I’m so fucking wet, don’t do this to me, Bekam. Not when I’m still wearing underwear.” It was more of a whine than actual words. Good to know they were both on edge. With swift wiggles, Yuri was off him and out of his underwear. He strapped the harness on and climbed back on top of his lover. Then, Yuri grabbed Otabek’s hand with almost desperate determination and forced it back to his opening. “Please fucking hurry or I might actually cry from being horny.” He huffed and leaned forward, mouthing Otabek’s neck where the rope allowed it. 

For a moment, Otabek wondered if he would pass out when Yuri took the strand between his teeth and tugged gently, shifting the pressure for a moment and reminding his husband of the confines he was stuck in. Fuck. Just a little blood in his brain would be nice. Just some of it. He moaned against Yuri’s ear, who in turn shivered. 

“Fucking shit, take your fingers out of me. I need your cock.” 

“You will limp tomorrow.” 

“Yes. Now move!” The authority in Yuri’s voice seemed unshakeable, and Otabek’s entire body tingled with arousal. He helped his lover to a place on the bed, then ripped his pants off of himself. Maybe it tugged the button off, Otabek was neither sure, nor interested. He sat down with a dull _thump_ and Yuri was back on him before he could blink. “Lube!” The order made him twitch and whine. He handed his husband what he wanted, while Yuri fiddled with the harness, adjusting it to accommodate his lover. 

Yuri seemed almost angry, almost aggressive, with the way he poured lube over Otabek’s dick and then his own fingers before he unceremoniously shoved them into himself. No doubt to coat his insides. Otabek had prepared him as best as he could, was allowed to, but Yuri was impatient and he would need the extra lube to combat the stretching he missed. 

The noise that followed when Yuri pulled his hand back was lewd, but he did not care. Yuri tossed the bottle back onto the bed, uninterested in where it landed, uninterested in everything but the monument of their desire in front of him that he mounted with the grace of a dancer and the enthusiasm of a bullfighter. 

A long sigh. Yuri fell onto him like a crashing wave, shock trailing through both of them. Neither dared to breathe until Yuri bottomed out, and even then, they paused for a moment. Yuri’s head lolled back, eyes closed, before he finally gasped for breath. A drowning man. It reminded Otabek to breathe, too. Both went immediately to panting, somehow trying to combat the tension inside of them, the breathlessness that kept him chasing what oxygen could not fulfill. 

They clung to each other for what felt an eternity, as Yuri adjusted around him. Otabek refused to move on his own, even though he suspected Yuri would like that. Today, Yuri was the ringmaster and he was just the dancing bear. His head swam. 

Yuri’s lips were so sweet, it was so easy to get lost in a kiss that choked him. And then, there was movement. On top of him, Yuri bucked, and it was the best and worst thing Otabek ever felt. It was everything. Yuri was his beginning and his end, his eye of the storm and the trail of destruction it left behind, all in one person. 

Otabek’s brain said his farewell when Yuri began to bounce up and down. He had so much stamina. It wasn’t fair, it had never been. Eyes fell shut, mouths fell open, kisses tried to seal noises away but failed miserably because they were both far too gone. 

When he eventually came, Yuri didn’t stop. Perfect, beautiful Yuri rode him through the sensitivity until he screamed into Otabek’s ear. Maybe it was just seconds. Maybe it was hours. Otabek had no idea what happened after that. 

The next morning, he woke at the foot of the bed, Yuri curled into the curve of his body. He was still wearing the harness and a smile. Otabek still had rope around his chest. Their sheets were soiled beyond saving at this point, but none of this mattered. Because he was happy. They were happy. 

Otabek tightened his grip on Yuri, kissed the back of his head, and fell asleep once more. 

\-----------

“There we go.” Mila placed the cake in front of Yuri, all twenty-five candles alight. With considerably more care, Yuri blew them out. He slumped back against the sofa with a grin, then curled under Otabek’s arm. Yuri was rewarded with a soft hiss when his head landed on the rope marks, causing him to grin and wiggle his head more. Otabek cursed into Yuri’s ear and the little menace giggled. 

“What happened, Beka? Are you sore?” Leo looked so genuinely confused, Otabek struggled to keep a straight face. 

“Yeah. I … did a chest workout yesterday.”

“Sure you did.” Phichit winked and took a picture of them. He grinned, posted it to the group chat, and sat down to cut the cake. “Who wants a piece?” He handed one to everyone who raised arms or hands. “Mhm! Strawberry shortcake is the fucking best.” 

“I know. I can’t believe Chris is missing out on it.” Sara bit into her piece and looked at her girlfriend. “Did he say why he wouldn’t be here?” 

That was when Yuri straightened back and began to chew his lip again. He looked at Sara, then at Medina, and finished with his eyes on Phichit, before he continued. “He will be here. He just needs a few more minutes. He, uhm … texted me.” 

“Oh, nice!” Sara’s smile was genuine as she climbed onto her girlfriend’s lap. “So he is just … what, getting a last-minute gift?” 

For a second, Yuri was silent. “No. He is … at the train station.” 

“Please tell me we won’t have to deal with your parents. Either of your parents.” Mila pointed between Yuri and Otabek. 

“You liked my mom when she taught you how to make blini.” 

“You have a point. But they are still … exhausting. In a way. So please just tell me it’s not parents?” 

Yuri sighed and almost seemed like he was trying to hide when he curled further under Otabek’s arm. “No. It’s not our parents. Though we did schedule a skype call with them later, so you all better behave.” 

“Then who else is Chris getting?” Minami was under a pile of cats, barely audible over their loud protests to be pet. They loved him most out of their friendship group, especially when he brought treats and cuddles. 

“A friend.” 

“Your friend?” Seung-Gil raised an eyebrow. Otabek struggled to decide if he looked amused or arrogant. “Or his own friend?” 

Was that dude trying to pick a fight? Otabek was glad Phichit seemed happier since they all made their peace, but he still didn’t like Seung-Gil. Not after he learned the man said some horrible things about Chris. Otabek wasn’t entirely sure why Phichit had started to drag him along recently. Seung-Gil was obviously not too happy to be around them. And the feeling was mutual. 

“His own friend.” Yuri’s answer surprised Otabek. “He asked me if it was okay. I don’t know him yet, either. But Chris promised they would behave, whatever that means. He wants us to meet the guy, so who am I to tell him _‘no’_?” 

“Oh my god, a new boyfriend?” Medina’s eyes were wide. She looked over to Phichit, not exactly subtle in the way she tried to gauge his reaction. 

Yuri seemed unhappy with his position as a news carrier. “He will tell us himself, I guess. But we all know Chris doesn’t really do _‘boyfriends’_.” The group nodded. Tension was palpable, especially with the way Phichit crossed his arms and demonstratively leaned against his own boyfriend. The fucker didn’t even hug him. 

For a while, they sat in relative silence, listening to the Spotify playlist in the background as everyone followed their own thoughts. But eventually, Guang Hong spoke up. “So. Beka. What did you get your lover?” 

Otabek snorted softly and ruffled Yuri’s hair, who glared from his hiding place, not welcoming the attention for once. “A cat tree. I know, I know. it’s not the most romantic. But … It’s less of an actual tree and more of a complex system of tubes, ropes, shelves, and whatever. Stuff you screw into the walls that the cats can play on, basically. It’s … a lot. It’s less the material goods I gave him and more the promise to ensure everything will be as perfect as possible for our feline companions in the house.” 

“Have they seen it by now?” 

“No. Transporting them is always an adventure. And even though a big chunk of the furniture is there, we still have to do so much. Yuri wants to paint almost all of the walls. We still have to build most of the furniture. Then we will have to child-proof and cat-proof it all. The house is gorgeous and we love it a lot, but … It’s almost exam period, and Leo and I are very busy with the business. So we aren’t as far as we would like to be.” 

“Do you need help?” Minami squeaked from beneath Potya’s belly. 

“Well, if you’re offering? Yes. Always.” 

“Will there be muffins?” Mila smirked at the two men. Ever since the gang helped clean the house for the first Altin visit, offering muffins had become a tradition. Not just in Yuri and Otabek’s household, but also for everyone else. They all helped out one another without much fuss. 

“Of course there will be.” Yuri grinned and straightened up a little, but stayed close to his husband. “But I could also always bake some Russian sweets. They are—” The doorbell interrupted them. Yuri sighed. “I’ll get it.” 

He moved off the sofa and tried to walk to the door as casually as he could, but none of the observing guests missed his limp. Mila grinned and gave Otabek a thumbs-up, that he returned stoically. Muffled voices from the hallway followed Yuri opening the door. 

“Hey, darling. Happy birthday!” Chris. 

“Hey there. You have been missed already. No cake left for you. You can basically turn right around and leave.” Yuri. 

  
“You are so cruel to me. I texted you. You knew I would be late. Besides … say _‘hi’_ to Masumi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what Yuri did, follow the link! I loved the tutorial and wanted to share it with you. ♥  
> ALSOOOOO another birthday with the team and Chris brought someone else!  
> How are we feeling about that?
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 13: Yuri and Otabek try bondage for their birthday sex. In the afternoon, they meet with the gang for Yuri's birthday party. Chris is late because he picked up Masumi from the train station.

Okay. The atmosphere was a teeny tiny bit awkward. Otabek had to admit that. Mostly because no one was talking, so his mind had no distraction. But really, what were they supposed to say? Everyone saw Chris and Masumi laughing and hugging when they played Twister with Yuri and Minami. Everyone saw Phichit wrinkling his nose, crossing his arms, turning away. Everyone heard Seung-Gil following him, just to tell him to grow up and stop whining. 

Now they were sitting around the half-eaten cake, listening to music and, from time to time, talking quietly. But it was hard to focus on any conversations when every few minutes an angry yell would pierce the carefully crafted words. 

“Should I … leave?” Chris looked as uncomfortable as they all felt. 

“No!” He had an arm full of Medina now, clinging to him, refusing to let him go. “You just arrived!” 

“Yeah but—” 

“No  _ ‘but’ _ .” Yuri rolled his eyes. “If anyone leaves, it will be  _ him _ . I don’t know why Phichit even brings him along, it’s not like he wants to be friends with us. Or spend time with us. Or even be in the same room, I guess.” 

“I DON’T CARE!, THEY ARE YOUR FRIENDS, NOT MINE! YOU WANTED TO COME HERE!” 

“See?” Yuri gestured toward the hallway. “I’m not even pettily making up that he doesn’t like us. He … doesn’t. And he also doesn’t care enough to not scream it in our home. Which I personally think is a pretty fun thing to do. On my birthday.” He huffed and dropped back against the sofa. 

Otabek kissed the top of Yuri’s head, then, leaning forward, added, “I’m going to see if I can—” But he didn’t get any further. Seung-Gil was already walking through the hallway with swift, angry steps. He didn’t say goodbye or interacted with them in any way, just straight up stormed to the door and out, letting it slam shut behind him. “Oh. Oh wow.” 

Everyone looked at one another, wondering what they were supposed to do now. 

“Maybe I should—” 

“Don’t.” Guang Hong gave Chris a soft look. “Trust me, that won’t help. I know you care about him, but …” 

From the hallway came another set of swift steps. Lighter, more cautious. “Hey.” Phichit had wiped the tears on his cheeks away but hadn’t caught the entire eyeliner streak. “I’m … so sorry.” 

Against all recommendations, Chris stood and took Phichit into his arms. “It’s okay. It’s fine.” The scene made Otabek turn to Masumi, but Chris’s companion only looked worried, not jealous. Did he not know they used to be a couple? Or were they? All this time, things had been loose between them, neither made that out to be any kind of secret. Everyone in the group had treated them like a couple, but Otabek wondered now if that even was how they saw themselves. “Hey.” He bumped his knee against Masumi’s. “Welcome. It’s cool you are here.” They had already welcomed him of course, but somehow, it felt necessary to repeat the action right now. 

“Thank you. I’m very glad I am allowed to be here.” His smile was genuine as he reached down to pet one of the kittens. “Chris told me a lot about you guys. I … used to be Sebastian’s cat sitter, but I moved away not too long ago. We still kept contact, though. Obviously. And all this time he kept telling me about a gorgeous lady Sebastian was in love with and made babies with. One time I saw a picture of Potya. But she is even prettier in real life.” 

And there he had it, Yuri’s undying support and love. Otabek’s husband leaned over. “They have  _ three  _ babies and they are  _ all  _ perfect!” Masumi gave him a warm, honest smile, and Yuri began to look around so he could point the little monsters out. To no one’s surprise, they were mostly curled around Minami again. He and Masumi seemed to know each other, a surprising bit Otabek learned when they played Twister. 

Now, Minami was waving at Masumi and held up Axel, Lutz, and Loop one after the other to show them off. 

“Beautiful. Just like the mother.” Potya purred against his leg, and Otabek relaxed a little until he spotted Medina’s glare. She was giving him and Masumi dirty looks, as if he was serving tea to a tyrant and as if Masumi was at fault for the decisions of Chris and Phichit. Masumi followed his gaze, and, to Otabek’s horror, Medina didn’t even look away now. She simply kept her angry eyes on Masumi. “Your sister …” 

“She is a good friend of both Chris and Phichit. And, uhm …” Was Otabek saying too much if he admitted that Medina was personally offended over their not-break-up-break-up? 

“Ah. I see.” Thank whoever deity was listening right now, Masumi already knew. He didn’t sound worried or offended, which surprised Otabek. In a good way. “I’m glad Chris has so many people who care about him.” He smiled at Otabek again, then gave Medina a gentle nod. She huffed and looked away, just as Phichit and Chris settled. 

“Well. That was fun.” Yuri returned from the kitchen with two bottles of wine and an apologetic look in Medina’s direction. She frowned but didn’t acknowledge it anymore, so Yuri straight up handed the bottles to Mila and Guang Hong and settled back against Otabek’s side. They took a gulp and handed them off to their partners. At this point, everyone had long accepted if they were getting ill, they would all get ill together. And have a blanket cuddle party. 

After Seung-Gil was gone, discussions picked back up. Finally. Otabek relaxed against Yuri and allowed the conversations to wash over them, very content to simply listen. He learned about Guang Hong’s Yoga practice and smiled when Yuri and he were invited along. Everyone knew asking Otabek to come was just social pleasantries, he wasn’t nearly flexible enough to actually participate. Aside from having no time. But Yuri sounded happy about the prospect, so Otabek hoped on his behalf things would work out. 

He learned about Mila’s mother adopting a new puppy and about Leo’s uncle trying to make burger patties from wheat and eggs. Otabek even got to talk a little bit about figure skating, when Minami brought up interest in returning to Japan during this year’s NHK trophy. 

When one of the bottles was empty and the other halfway gone, Yuri’s phone chimed. His parents were punctual to the minute, which delighted him. Otabek enjoyed the way Yuri recently began to light up when he got to talk to his family. And this time, Nikolai was there, too. They sang for their birthday boy, congratulated, and were a little surprised when Yuri asked them to “please stay a moment and wait on the line”. 

As if they waited for a cue, the Altins called, and Yuri added them to a conference call. Both sets of parents were surprised to see each other, but neither complained. Yuri received more blessings and kind wishes, along with the promise of presents, but that sent the Plisetskys into a tiny gift war again. Otabek effectively ended that by threatening to hang up if they didn’t manage to act like grown-ups and coexisted. It earned him a bunch of huffs, but overall, his plan seemed to work. 

Once Medina was done greeting their parents and telling them about school and her daily dorm life, Yuri asked for everyone’s attention yet again. He placed the phone on the table right in front of them, making sure any sort of alcohol was out of the frame, and pulled Medina into a hug. 

“Oka,y everyone, here and on the phone—” His phone vibrated with another call. “Oh no. Oh, come on. Now? One second.” He was greeted by his cousin’s face, along with his husband and an overexcited, giant dog. “What do you want?” 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” 

“Thank you. You suck. Well, Viktor, you suck. Katsuki is cool, I guess.” Both Yuris gave each other a thumbs-up. “Sorry to rain on your parade, but I’m kind of in the middle of an important—” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Viktor’s eyebrows raised on his, as Yuri said, ever-expanding forehead. “We didn’t mean to bother you. Otabek told us to call now!” 

“Of course the fucker did.” He glared over his shoulder at Otabek, who pretended to not see Yuri’s anger. It was an easy task because there was true happiness behind his mask of carefully created indifference and frustration. “Well, I guess I’ll just … add you to the group call, then. If you promise you can behave yourselves.” 

“What kind of group call?” Katsuki’s question was answered when Yuri simply connected the active conversation and the one on hold. 

After a quick round of  _ ‘hello’ _ s and introductions, Yuri set the phone back down. “Okay. So. Second time’s the charm, I guess. Or do we expect any other surprise guests, Bekam?” Yuri glared playfully, to which Otaabek shook his head. 

“Just those.” 

“Well then. Okay. Family, friends, family-friends. Uhm. It’s my birthday, which you all already know or else you wouldn’t be here. Or you would be here, but not congratulate me, or … well. Uhm. It’s my birthday, and … this year, Bekam and I decided we would … fulfill a wish we’ve had for a while? A wish most of you know about and share, I guess?” 

“Yuri!” Otabek heard his mother gasp, hand pressed to her chest. Viktor echoed the expression, maybe because he was truly surprised, maybe because he hated the idea that someone would out-drama him. 

“Yeah, I know. Shocking. But … we want a baby.” More gasps, some real, some fake. “And I know we’ve said this since New Year. But … we want to get serious about it now. Which is why we, uhm … looked for a surrogate mother?” His eyes strayed to Mila. Otabek loved how openly she smiled. There was honest excitement in her eyes, too. “So, eh, dear guests, please give it up for … Mila?” 

Yuri pointed at her with both hands, basically presenting her to the crowd. Mila stood and bowed in the direction of their friends, family, and them. Everyone seemed shocked, but after a breath of confusion, understanding dawned and their friends began to yowl and clap. And indulgent as she was, Mila took a second round of bows. Once she stood straight again, Yuri raised his palm towards her, offering the metaphorical microphone. He hated public speaking and this crowd was getting too large for his taste, Otabek knew. Once Mila seemed ready to continue, Yuri curled under Otabek’s arm and into himself, biting his lip. He had been nervous about everyone’s reactions all day. Not just about the part they already offered to the crowd, but also about what was to follow. 

Mila waved into the camera with a wide smile. “Hello, I am Mila, for those who don’t know me yet. And I will carry your sons’ baby to term.” Viktor was clapping and Katsuki looked teary-eyed. The parents seemed mostly stunned. Even though Yuri made a little fuss, Otabek was glad he had invited the two men. “Okay, okay. But that is not all.” She bit her lip and looked around the room, then to Yuri. “Are you sure you want  _ me  _ to tell them?” 

Yuri nodded and ducked down further. Otabek tipped his head, too. He wasn’t eager for this part, or at least, not for the reactions to it. His parents wouldn’t be amused, but it couldn’t be helped. “In return, Otabek and Yuri offered to help us with our wish to have a child of our own.” His mother slapped her hands over her mouth, Otabek watched his father pet her back. They probably already knew what was about to come. “Since Sara and I have two wombs, but no …” Mila trailed off when her eyes landed on Medina. “Well, Beka offered us his help in return. Let’s just leave it at that.” 

The gang was applauding, cheering, whistling. Their parents were stone-faced. Yuri grabbed the phone off the table and brought it closer. He knew this had been risky, they both knew. It could make or break their parents’ support at this point. So his smile was a little tense when he grinned into the camera. “We are going to have a baby! And we even know and love the surrogate, so we can document every step along the way!” He did his best to sound cheerful. 

“And Otabek will father two children.” Shit. His mom sounded not amused. It was to be expected, but he hoped it would not be too bad. 

“Yes, but only genetically. Just like Mila offers us her body for a certain time.” It was not the same, the child would have his genetics for the rest of their life, while Mila was ‘done’ once the baby was born. But Otabek would not emphasize  _ that  _ part. 

“So you will have no responsibilities whatsoever?” 

“No. I’m just a DNA donor, basically. Mila and Sara will have full custody. It’s like donating sperm, just that … I know the receiver and they know me? Listen. It is the same process each of us would go through anyway, but we already know we like the other involved parties, we can see how things develop,  _ and  _ we can share that hard time with people we love. This is kind of a necessity. We just found a way to make it into something beautiful.” 

“But Otabek, she is not your wife.” 

“Neither is Yuri. And you managed to live with that. I am not asking you to like it. I am not even asking you to agree to it. I am merely informing you of a decision I made for me, my love, my life, and my friends. You all wanted Yuri and me to have a baby. Now there is an opportunity. And it won’t only make us happy, but them, too.” Silence. Otabek sighed. He hated fighting them every step on the way. “You can do this together with us and support us and your grandchild or grandchildren. Or you can decide you don’t want this and politely step away. I can’t stop you, I won’t stop you. But the same applies to us, too.” 

“I am  _ so  _ happy for you. For both of you! You’ve come such a long way. Life is hard when you are different, and you two are doing so amazingly. We are very proud.” Viktor nodded, entirely serious. “Of course you have our full support. That goes without saying. We love you so, so much.” He smiled into the camera, and Katsuki nodded along. 

“Thank you,” Yuri breathed. Otabek saw his small smile in the video window. He didn’t praise himself often, but adding Viktor and Katsuki to that conversation had been one of his better ideas. After all, it was expected that their parents wouldn’t be too delighted with their choices. But Viktor’s genuine words seemed to shake the Plisetskys from their stupor, too. 

“Yuri … this is wonderful. It’s … a lot. But if this is what you want, what makes you, both of you, happy … I think you gave each other a beautiful gift for your birthday.” Ekaterina smiled and Otabek smiled back. 

“I think so, too.” He watched Alexander swallow and nod along. Yuri’s father had always needed more time, but Otabek was relatively sure he would come around eventually. And even his own parents seemed to have eased their disapproving frowns a little. 

“You will have to send us photos every day! And tell us everything that happens! And we want to visit, too. And meet this Mila and Sara!” His mother sounded demanding, but Otabek knew it was her way to tell them they had her blessing. The route between them was paved with misunderstandings, different world views, and a lot of complications, but beneath the pebble of everyday life and struggles, Otabek was aware there was a foundation of love and understanding. It was the reason he kept trying. It was the reason they did, too. 

“So,” Yuri concluded and leaned back, camera trained on their faces as he rested against Otabek’s chest, “we will have a baby. Happy birthday, me!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a little late today, I hope you enjoyed eve MORE of Yuri's birthday todayyy ♥


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 14:It is still Yuri's birthday. We learn a bit more about Masumi, Phichit and Seung-Gil fight and Yuri and Otabek reveal their baby plans to their parents and friends.

“So,” Medina curled between them on the big bed, forcing her brother and brother-in-law to spoon her, “what will happen now?” 

“We will have a baby.” Yuri was idly braiding a strand of his hair but turned his head to smile at her. 

“Yeah, but like, how?” 

“Surrogacy.” 

Medina groaned and poked Otabek’s side. “Help me to actually understand it.” 

Otabek put the book he had been trying to read for fifteen minutes aside. “What do you want to know?” 

“What are the next steps? What will happen? How?” 

Yuri sat up a little so Medina could turn and curl up on his chest. He hugged her close. “First, there will be an ovulation induction. I am using my own eggs, as you know. Which is still a scary thought, but … yeah. I will receive hormones to stimulate egg production. They prevent ovulation until the desired time. Which means I had to stop taking my pill, and frankly, I fucking hate this because periods are the fucking worst.” Otabek gave him an understanding look; they had always been a trigger for Yuri. “Doctors will then monitor my estrogen level over several days. Around day five, they will perform …” He waved at Otabek to continue with a sigh, obviously angry with himself. 

“They will perform a vaginal ultrasound. To monitor the growth, size, and number of available ovarian follicles.” Medina nodded, interested and fascinated as far as Otabek could tell. For a moment, he allowed himself to listen to the spring thunderstorm outside before he continued his explanation. “What follows is called egg retrieval. With the ultrasound, they will guide an aspiration to collect the eggs. Plural, if possible.” 

“Will you freeze them if you can?” 

“Definitely. You know Yuri thinks about transitioning at some point in the future. If he’s taking testosterone, this will be more or less impossible. And we haven’t decided yet how many children we would like to have. So we will see.” Medina nodded. “Yuri will get medicated to reduce the pain from the procedure, even though it is relatively minor.” 

“And then?” 

Otabek looked over, allowing Yuri to continue the explanation if he wanted to. “The next step is the fertilization of the eggs and the embryo culture. That is the part where you can scrunch up your little cute nose because you have to admit to yourself that your brother has a sex life.” 

Medina did scrunch up her nose, first at Yuri, then at Otabek. 

“When they take out the eggs, they are mixed with sperm cells.” 

“Is this where I am supposed to be disgusted?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yuck. Sperm cells.” Medina grinned, causing Yuri to smirk back. 

“They will then incubate for, like, 14 to 18 hours or something. When the eggs are fertilized, we are suddenly supposed to call them embryo, just so you know. They will move to a new growth medium right after. Then, science people will do science stuff. If you want to know what exactly, you will have to ask one of the others. I’m an art major. Anyway, forty hours later is another check-up. If the embryos are doing a good job at developing then, Mila can go to the clinic and get them implanted. That’s called a fresh cycle. Or we can freeze them; this is option B, the frozen cycle. Which, as mentioned, we will do if we can.” 

“And then, they just toss them into Mila?” 

“No. But I like how you think, little one. It’s actually quite complicated. Of course it is. It better be when it comes to the money they are demanding.” Yuri shrugged and kissed Medina’s head but looked over to Otabek to continue the explanation. He was apparently done right now and wanted to focus on cuddling. 

“The embryo transfer has to be prepared quite well.” Otabek gave her another small smile that Medina returned immediately. He wasn’t even sure why he was grinning, but it probably had to do with how comfortable both his sister and his husband looked. Seeing them like that made Otabek happy. “Mila will receive a bunch of medications to prepare her body for the baby. She will have to inject hormones on a daily basis to stimulate the gland that regulates ovulation. After a little over a week, she will get her period. When Yuri starts ovulation induction, she will get estrogen, so the lining of her uterus grows.” 

“Yeah, she has to take injections for that, into her belly. It’s not fun.” Yuri sighed and shuffled a little, trying to get comfortable with Medina pressed to him, even though she was slightly taller than him now. “And she gets a vaginal ultrasound, too. So they can check the uterine lining.” 

“Do you want to continue?” 

“No. Sorry.” Yuri stuck out his tongue in jest and rolled his eyes. “Please continue.” 

“If they consider her uterine lining sufficient, she can stop taking the medication. Then, she will get progesterone to prepare her body for the embryo.” 

“That one is taken by intramuscular injection,” Yuri whispered. “So it hurts like a bitch.” Medina giggled in his arms, by now she was used to him cursing a lot. 

Otabek rolled his eyes at them, but his expression was just as fond as Yuri’s had been earlier. “The embryo transfer follows when the little blob is still at the two to eight-cell stage. So it really is just a tiny bundle of cells. Although I read that some clinics now let them grow for up to five days.” 

“The next part is weird.” Yuri poked Medina, his eyes crinkling. Now that it wasn’t about his body anymore, he was far more relaxed. 

Otabek had to agree. “Yeah. It kind of is. The embryos and some liquid medium are drawn up into a catheter, which gets inserted into the vagina. From there, they work their way through the cervix and into the uterus. Then, they … uhm, basically flush them out? Gently? But they check what they are doing with an ultrasound, usually.” 

“Yeah. And then, Mila gets to stay in bed for, like, a few hours. Head low, feet high. After a while, they kick her out. Then, she has to keep taking progesterone to increase the chances. After, like, close to two weeks, she gets to do a blood test, so we can see if the embryo transfer worked and she ended up pregnant. She will continue taking medications until they find a heartbeat. And … then that is it. She is pregnant with our baby. In theory.” 

Medina nodded. “That … sounds like a lot.” 

“It is,” Otabek replied, stretched, and pulled up the blanket, trying to achieve a maximum level of comfort. “It is a lot, but we hope it’s worth it.” 

“What are the chances it will work out?” 

“75 percent overall, 95 percent once there is a heartbeat. But the odds are in our favor. It’s best when both the semen and egg donor are under 30 years of age, are non-smokers, and there are no red flags in their family health history. We all know Beka is pushing thirty—” 

“I’m twenty-eight.” 

“—pushing thirty, but … I am positive we will find a way to make this work.” He kissed Medina’s temple and she giggled. “My youthful 25 years of being on this planet will counterbalance his old, basically dead cells.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“For the sake of Medina, I will not provide any further answer.” 

“Ew. Good night.” She squirmed and hugged each of them, then wiggled out of bed. “Don’t use up all your potential—” 

“LEAVE.” Otabek playfully glared at her. 

“I’m just saying. You are pushing thirty, after all.” He tossed his pillow, but the little demon caught it and ran off with it. 

\----------- 

“Listen,” Yuri groaned as he heaved a bucket full of paint into the bedroom. “I love this house. I love this color. But fuck everyone and their parents. I just wanna sleep. My body feels like shit and I still have to read through an assignment.” 

“Literally no one’s forcing you to paint that wall right now,  күнім.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes in Otabek’s direction. “It’s my only free day this week. If I don’t do it today, it won’t happen.” 

“You don’t have a free day, though. You gotta study. And you don’t feel good,” Otabek tried to reason. He would have offered to paint the wall himself, but like most artists, Yuri refused to allow anyone else to touch his canvas. “I mean, it’s monochrome. I can’t fuck up much with this, right?” 

“Can you paint a ceiling so it won’t have streaks?” 

“I’m not dumb. You know that, right? I studied?” 

Yuri nodded and raised a paintbrush. “You’re right, teddy. I shouldn’t have doubted you. Please, go ahead and paint the wall to my right. Streak-free. Don’t worry, I already did the edge work, so if you don’t paint over the tape, things will be clean and beautiful.” Ha. He knew Yuri would trust him. Otabek tipped his head, a little proud. “Okay. Let me know when you are done. I’ll go read my assignment.” He pressed a quick kiss to Otabek’s lips and was gone. 

Okay. This couldn’t be that hard, right? He looked at the midnight blue color in the paint bucket, then back to the wall. Yuri wanted to paint three walls and the ceiling in that dark blue, and one accent wall in gold. It sounded gaudy and too much, but once Yuri showed him an entire Pinterest board of rooms painted in a similar fashion, Otabek had to agree it looked stunning. But how hard could it be to paint a wall? He’d never done anything like this before and he doubted Yuri had. He knew more about paints and materials through his arts degree, but he wasn’t a craftsman either. 

Otabek reached for the large roller. He would paint this wall and it would be the nicest wall Yuri had ever seen, and then he would finally chill a little and allow Otabek to help. That was the plan. Except, it didn’t work. As it turned out, painting an entire wall streak-free was a god damn task. Not even because the paint was too thin or needed a second coat. But because Otabek seemed physically unable to portion the amount of paint on the roller in a way that worked out. It was either too thick or too thin, and he accidentally painted the ceiling four or five times because the damn, giant roller kept moving unpredictably. At least so far he hadn’t painted over the tape or ruined the floor. And they would have to do the ceiling anyway, so this wasn’t an issue, right?

An hour later, Yuri entered. And laughed. Otabek could tell he did his best to hide it, didn’t mean to ridicule his husband. But there he was, rubbing tiny tears out of his eyes upon the sight of a terribly streaked wall and Otabek sitting on the floor, defeated. “Hey there … I, uhm … Well. The wall is certainly painted.” Yuri was still giggling into the back of his hand. 

“Yeah. Well. I ruined it, didn’t it?” 

“Yeah. I’ll have to paint over it. And I’ll have to paint every other wall in the room twice, too, or the color will be off.” 

“You are pretty relaxed about it.” Yuri took out his phone and shot a photo. The  _ ping  _ in Otabek’s pants told him it went straight to the group chat. 

“I knew what I was getting myself into when I let you paint the wall. Also, I really needed that laugh.” He came over with a smirk and wrapped himself around Otabek’s back. “Don’t look so sad!” 

“But I made things harder for you.” 

There were teeth on the shell of his ear. Otabek wasn’t sure, but he thought Yuri was grinning. “It’s okay. I make things hard for you all the time.” His hand wandered down Otabek’s chest and to his abs. That helped a little to cheer him back up. 

“I’m not fucking you on the floor of our bedroom.” 

“Then where  _ are  _ you fucking me?” Otabek reached behind him, curled his hand in Yuri’s hair, and pulled him down onto the floor. Yuri threw his leg over Otabek’s, moved to straddle him, and groaned when a phone call disrupted their peace. “Who the fuck …” Yuri trailed off when he saw the name on screen. 

Mila never called. She either texted or left a voice message. Yuri’s eyes widened and he reached for Otabek’s hand, anxious for physical comfort in an entirely different way now. He took the call, heart beating so strong, Otabek could feel it in their embrace. Or was that his own heart, trying to work its way out of his chest? 

“Yeah?” 

“Yurochka?” 

“Who the fuck else?” His words were scorching, but Yuri’s voice was small. Otabek knew he was terrified, deep down. “Come on, don’t stall. Please just don’t stall.” 

A tiny laugh bubbled out of Mila. “You’re going to have a baby.” And her voice was so warm, so loving, Otabek knew she had been crying. 

Yuri’s eyes widened. He wanted to cheer, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He white-knuckled the mobile and tentatively asked, “And … you?” Now Mila sobbed a little, sniffled, tried to compose herself, failed, sobbed again, and started anew. Otabek was expecting the worst. 

Luckily, he was wrong. “We … are also going to have a baby?” It sounded almost like a question. As if Mila couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

“SO IT WORKED? IT WORKED FOR BOTH OF YOU, FIRST TRY? ARE YOU FOR REAL?” Yuri was tense, buzzing with almost electric energy he would need to release any second now. 

“Yeah, yeah, we … we are going to have babies.” Mila was crying now, but her tears were happy. Otabek was shit at reading people, but even with the distance between them, even over the phone, he could tell. 

Yuri grabbed him before Otabek even knew what was going on, kissed him, and then turned his attention back to his phone. “We have to celebrate! Oh my god! We have to!” 

“I know. I know! We can … I don’t know. This weekend?” Yuri nodded at Otabek, confirming from his side and asking Otabek if it worked out for him, too. 

“I have an appointment with a financial consultant in the evening.” 

“On a Saturday?” 

“Sorry?” 

Yuri huffed, obviously displeased, but at the same time well aware he had no right to interfere with Otabek’s business. “You could join us afterward?” That would work. Otabek nodded. “Cool. Mila! Saturday evening. I’m inviting the gang, you get the food and drinks?” 

“Doesn’t sound fair to me. I‘ll have to do all the carrying for you in the next several months.” 

She was answered by an almost manic giggle from Yuri and a tiny cheer. “Yeah! Yeah, sorry, you’re right! We’ll get food and drinks, you get the gang?” 

“Sure thing.” 

“Perfect.” 

“Is this when we are finally allowed to see the new house? Come on, you’ve been hiding it for almost half a year now!” 

Yet again, Yuri confirmed with Otabek, before he agreed. “Most of the rooms look okay, but … I still need to paint a bunch of rooms. And Beka has to build furniture. And we haven’t figured out yet what to do with all the space.” 

“Oh no, posh, spoiled white boy here doesn’t know what to do with his luxurious villa,” Mila laughed.

Yuri was grinning, too. “You are white, too. Besides, Beka isn’t.” 

  
“The present was from your parents. And Sara isn’t white either.” 

“She is Italian. She has a tan, but that girl is white.” Otabek rolled his eyes at his husband. Not this discussion again. “If she counts, Arianna Grande counts, too. And Hollywood already decided on that one. So, no, Sara is not of color.” 

Mila was cackling, knowing the topic riled Yuri up. “See you on Saturday! Love you!”

“Love you, too. Take care. Both of you.” 

“Okay, Dad.” 

And Otabek knew Mila was poking fun at him, but Yuri’s entire face exploded in a firework of pure joy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeeyy we will have babiiiiies!  
> Also, a lot of research went into this chapter so I hope you will enjoy it! Thank you for your support ♥


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 15: They talk with Medina about the medical procedures it takes to make surrogacy happen. Later on, Yuri and Otabek are painting their bedroom in the new house when Mila calls to tell them the pregnany test was positive, both for her and Sara. They decide to have a party to celebrate.

Otabek was late. He knew he was, but he couldn’t make himself drive recklessly. He would be a father in a few months. The thought still made him prickle with emotions, all soft and mushy and exciting, but also scary and draining. Now they would have to hurry with the house. The company had to be a success. Yuri would have to work even harder on his degree. With wish-fulfillment came a lot of responsibilities. At least their parents seemed to be truly happy for once. 

He parked the bike in front of the garage, together with a bunch of other cars. His friends were already there, of course they were, and they had been for a while, but he was forced to go out to a business drink after they finished debating where to invest the money best.

Leo climbed off the bike, a little unsteady on his feet. He had to drink Otabek’s alcohol, after all, since declining was considered rude and they both knew he would have to drive. It was fine, though. Leo was a fun drunk, completely harmless, mostly just cuddly and ready to dance. Which worked out for a pregnancy announcement party. Even though the guests didn’t know yet. Everything was organized under the excuse of a house warming, even though the house was far from done. 

But once they remembered most of their friends had some sort of artistic background, Yuri had decided to take this party and turn it into an assignment. He mailed out his plans for the rooms, all perfectly detailed with their own vision boards and infographics, and assigned each of their friends to work in a room for an hour. That started three hours ago. Otabek knew art kids, he was positive no one had stopped working so far, and the house would look crazy but end up absolutely beautiful. 

Once inside, he realized he had been right. Yuri, who was currently putting stone tiles on the walls of their hallway, ran over, jean overalls and everything. He had a brush stuck behind his ear and his face was full of color, even though he was obviously not painting. “You are safe for exactly ten minutes. Go and change into clothes you don’t value. Also, hand Leo some, please. In the kitchen, there are two paint buckets left, along with brushes. They are your weapons. We play tag. Everyone works in their room, but every thirty minutes, a timer sounds. Then, we are allowed to move between rooms and, upon encountering one another, we are allowed to paint them with our color. Once per round per person.  _ Only  _ the person, not the room. Winner is whoever at the end of the night tagged the most people.” 

There was no way this was working. Art kids were full of creative chaos. No way were they sticking to the rules of only marking once per round. Otabek was convinced they would have to clean up paint spills by the end of the night and would end up with colorful swatches everywhere. But his Yuri looked happy, and, thinking about it, walls marked with the memory of happy times weren’t the worst kind of decoration. So Otabek nodded, kissed his lover, and went to get himself and Leo changed. 

“There’s no way th’s ‘s workin’,” Leo seemed to agree to Otabek’s thoughts. But he was smiling, too, knowing that Otabek would still indulge his husband, because this was who they were. Dressed in old and ratty clothes they had kept for the renovation, Otabek and Leo emerged from the bedroom and went to the kitchen, where they indeed found tiny pain buckets and a small brush, similar to the one behind Yuri’s ear. 

Once equipped with their weapons, Otabek and Leo decided to check out what had been going on so far. 

The first room was the bathroom. It was empty by now, but someone had built all the furniture that had been shoved to the sides until now. There were no decorations yet, but Otabek could already tell there was conscious thought behind the design and arrangement. He was proud of Yuri for planning the room so beautifully and of whoever had been working on it. 

The next room was the future nursery. Sara and Mila were painting a large mural on the wall, both working in silent, focused harmony. When they noticed movement, they both reached for their brushes, ready to attack, but then registered who had entered. “Yuri said we are immune for a bit so we can look around.” 

“He said for ten minutes.” Otabek rolled his eyes at Leo; Mila and Sara didn’t need to know that. 

“When the next timer rings, you belong to us.” Sara’s brush disappeared in the front of her overalls again as she redirected her attention to the wall. Mila winked and put her weapon away, then returned to her work. 

Okay then. 

They made their way through the hallway and into the next room. It was empty now, but an almost photorealistic drawing of a forest graced the wall across from the room that was planned as the second child’s bedroom. Sometime. In the future. Sara and Mila must have already finished it before moving on to the other, although Otabek had no idea  _ how  _ they had managed to do that within three hours. 

Otabek’s study was untouched. Yuri decided he wanted to surprise him with that room, so no one else was allowed entry. It contained a few pieces of furniture, but the walls were bare. 

They found Minami in the second bathroom, sitting on the floor, his face scrunched up in concentration as he screwed a mirror into the wall. “Oh! Hi!” The poor guy was completely drenched in different colors. Otabek spotted Yuri’s a few times and had to grin. “You’re home!” 

“Hi, there! Yes, we finally made it, and now we are running around and admiring all your hard work.” 

“You better let us stay rent-free during the weekends.” Minami scrunched up his nose again when he grinned. 

“You’re always welcome to visit us, and always rent-free.” 

Minami looked as if he was melting and definitely like he wanted to say something else, but they were interrupted by the sudden noise of a siren shrieking through the entire house. “Sorry guys.” And from one second to the next, there was a brush in Minami’s hand that he dragged over each of their chests in broad swipes. 

“HEY!” 

“That’s the game, I don’t make the rules.” 

Otabek was about to avenge them when Leo painted another streak right over his forehead. “Wow, Leo.” He snickered and did the same to Minami, who seemed entirely unbothered. Okay, the game was on. Otabek reached for his own brush, but from the living room came shrieking and yelling, so his face fell and he ran out. 

That was Yuri’s voice. What was happening to his lover? But once he rounded the corner, Otabek realized he had been worried for nothing. Chris and Yuri were chasing each other, brushes out, over the sofa, and thank god someone had thought to put a cover onto it because the plastic was sprinkled with color. He noticed the ambush too late, and while Yuri was running away, scream-laughing and cackling about fresh paint in Chris’s hair, Phichit jumped out from behind a door. He sliced his brush over Yuri’s throat like a vicious killer, leaving Otabek’s husband shock stiff and flabbergasted for a second before Yuri growled and began the chase. 

Both of them almost ran into Otabek, obviously not expecting him to just stand there. Phichit’s color got onto his shirt and Yuri screamed at the man, foaming at the mouth and ready to avenge his husband. Just when the agile beast climbed the sofa and jumped at Phichit from the high vantage point, paintbrush in hand and ready to stab it into Phichit’s eye, probably, there was another siren. Yuri froze in his motion, straddling Phichit, the brush raised like a sword for execution, and cursed loud and nasty enough to make Otabek blush. Nonetheless, the weapon disappeared into his hair again, much to Phichit’s delight. 

“You lose, Altin. You might have gotten Chris, but we got you  _ and  _ your husband.” Yuri looked like he would punch him any second now, but instead he stood, pulled Phichit to his feet, and nodded. “Good game. In half an hour, I will fucking carve your eyes out with my brush.” Otabek hoped he was joking, but he wasn’t sure. 

Phichit returned to the kitchen, still grinning, while Yuri rounded on Otabek. “Why didn’t you do anything?” 

“You had him?” 

“But … The time ran out!” 

“How should I have known?” His husband somehow managed to incorporate his entire body into his eye roll. 

Chris snickered from behind the sofa. “Beka, welcome home, darling. I count three different colors on you. How many kills did you make?” 

“Can we not refer to them as ‘kills’?” 

“Sure, if you want to be boring and play with Masumi and Ji instead, they are right there.” He pointed into the dining room, where the aforementioned men happily and calmly painted a wall together, entirely free of any color swatches. 

  
“Wait, not playing was an option?!” 

Chris shook his head and began his own work on the living room ceiling again. “No. But they lock their door, the fuckers. I think Ji waited for Leo. But Masumi is just a little baby.” He blew his …  _ companion  _ a kiss and waved, to which Masumi answered with an equally happy wave and a grin. 

Guang Hong was already on his way to greet Leo, smiling wide when he realized it had been him who painted Otabek’s forehead. They kissed, and for a moment, Otabek smirked at them before he turned back to Yuri. He was already on his way into the foyer again, so Otabek followed. “I think I have seen most of the rooms now. It’s insane, you guys really outdid yourself. It was a brilliant idea from my brilliant husband.” 

Yuri beamed and finally took the time to kiss Otabek, too. “Thank you, thank you.” 

“Seung-Gil and Phichit are working in the kitchen?” 

Worrying his lip, Yuri shook his head. “No … they were supposed to be. But Phichit is doing it on his own.” 

Otabek frowned at that. “Trouble in paradise again?” 

“I think this time they mean it. It’s pretty serious. With break up on social media and all. And you know how important that shit is to Phichit.” 

Yeah. They all knew. “Shit. And now? Do we know when it happened?” 

“Seems to be pretty recent. Chris and I are working hard on distracting him. But maybe you could go and check on him, too?” Otabek nodded. He ensured Guang Hong would have an eye on Leo, who insisted he could help and took over Masumi’s task in the dining room, causing Chris to be treated to company for the living room work now. 

Otabek would have liked to stay with Yuri after such a long day, but Minami came over and helped him now, so Otabek had no excuse. He went to the kitchen, where he found Phichit, curled into himself, and leaning over the kitchen island. He looked like an entirely different person without the constant smile and his vibrant energy. More human. 

“Hey there.” Phichit startled, looked up, and hastily wiped his face before the grin was back in place. “Beka! Hi! Are you here to revenge your lover? Because I have to let you know, the timer didn’t ring yet—” 

“Yuri told me about Seung-Gil.” Maybe it wasn’t the most sensitive approach, but it was honest. 

“Oh.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Phichit sniffled, rubbed the back of his hand under his nose. “Don’t be. He’s an asshole.” 

If what he heard from Medina all those months ago was true, Otabek didn’t doubt Phichit’s assessment for a second. But officially, he never learned of that, so he hopped onto the island next to Phichit. “What did he do?” 

“I NEED A PIECE OF CAKE RIGHT NOW! I DON’T CARE WHO—OH HI, BEKA!” Medina tossed herself around his middle. Even after half a year of living in the United States, her perpetual enthusiasm to see her brother had not decreased. 

“Hey, айналайын. Grab that cake.” He pointed to the vaguely cake-shaped dish under the aluminum foil. 

“Those are muffins, and Yuri is very protective of—” 

“What are you doing and why are you being so slow at it? Oh! Hi mister Altin!” 

Otabek smiled at Medina’s roommate, a lovely girl they all readily welcomed whenever she wanted to visit. “Hi, Katya. And please. Otabek. Or Beka. Not mister Altin.” It was weird enough that she shared the name of Yuri’s mother.

Medina grinned and uncovered the cake, getting two pieces, one for her and one for Ekaterina. “But you  _ are  _ pushing your thirties.” 

“Listen here, if you keep being such a brat, you’ll stay on campus next week!” It was an empty threat, and they all knew it; next weekend, they would go to the zoo together. She blew him and Phichit a kiss, then hooked her arm through Ekaterina’s and turned to the door. 

“See you for the next alarm!” Then, they were gone, leaving Phichit and him in the aftermath of their whirlwind. Medina was the architect of her own dream today and got to paint her room. She was so filled with excitement, there was suddenly an energy vacuum once she left. 

“Yuri made you talk to me, didn’t he?” Phichit’s voice was soft, far from accusatory. 

“No. But he asked me to see how you are doing and to offer you some companionship. We don’t need to talk, though.” 

Phichit gave him a glance from the side. “How much do you know?” 

“I know you and Seung-Gil broke up. That’s it.” 

“No idea why?” 

“Did you tell anyone? I mean, even if you did … no. No idea. But …” Otabek looked over. He was used to Phichit emitting massive amounts of enthusiasm, but the man next to him was suspiciously quiet. Otabek almost mixed up his unresponsiveness with calmness, if he hadn’t noticed the deep, lost look in Phichit’s eyes. “You guys struggled for a while, didn’t you?” 

Phichit sighed. “Yeah. And before you ask … this isn’t about Chris. I know it might look like it sometimes, but I know Chris is aro and not interested in me like that at all so …” He seemed to lose the end of the thought while he spoke. “Seung-Gil and I had … different opinions on how to handle things.” 

“Do you want to tell me about them?” 

A small, bitter laugh. “Sure. Personally, I am a night person. He is a day person. I think milk in coffee is nice, he thinks it’s disgusting. I think even with poly couples, loyalty exists. He thinks if he puts his dick somewhere else without telling me about it until after it happened, it’s fine because  _ ‘I used to do the same thing’ _ .”

“Wait. He cheated on you?” 

“I think so. He doesn’t. You are the judge of it.” 

“Do you have an open relationship?” 

Phichit shook his head. “But apparently, a bunch of people interpret poly relationships like that.” 

“Fuck them.” Otabek gave him a long look. “You won’t run back to him, right, Phich? Tell me you won’t run back.” 

Dropping his head back, Phichit sighed. “It’s not that easy. I wish I could tell you  _ ‘No, Beka, of course I won’t.’.  _ But I’m an idiot. I can’t trust myself with phrases like that because I will find a way to fuck up a good thing. And right now, getting rid of him seems like a good thing to me. But in three weeks? I don’t know.” 

“So many people love you. You don’t need him.” 

Phichit’s smile was grim. He seemed to be a completely different person and it would frighten Otabek if it wasn’t so sad. “I know I don’t need him, I do. But I need someone else and that someone else is very obviously very happy without me.” He twisted a little to look into the living room, where Chris and Masumi were working tirelessly side by side, laughing and kissing in between. 

“Oh, no.” Otabek sighed and rubbed a palm over his face. His eyes stung and his head was a little dizzy. Only now did he realize how tired he was. Did that come from the conversation or was he exhausted from the long workday? It didn’t matter right now. Phichit’s confession did. “You have feelings for him?” 

“Always had.” Phichit mirrored his sigh and sounded as if he was pressing out all the air of his lungs. “Chris doesn’t know. Shouldn’t know. He is happy with Masumi. It’s just … when I realized I wanted more from him than casual sex and I understood that I couldn’t have that because Chris doesn’t feel romantic attraction, I kind of … I wanted things to work with Seung-Gil so much. Because being happy with him meant I wouldn’t have to think about my feelings towards Chris. You know?” 

Yeah. Otabek understood without a problem, even though luckily he had never been in a situation like that so far. “What are you going to do now? Going back to Seung-Gil won’t fix your problems with Chris.” It was blunt, but it was the best piece of advice Otabek had to offer. 

“I guess I have to—” but before Phichit could finish the sentence, the siren rang again. From one moment to the next, he lit up, dragged his brush over Otabek’s chest, and ran. “Sorry Beks, I’ll see you later. I have a war to win.” 

He was surrounded by children. Otabek rubbed his eyes, exhausted until his brain finally registered what that thought entailed. He would  _ actually  _ be surrounded by children very soon. His own baby. Babies, kind of. From the hallway came squeals and screams of delight, as more and more people rushed in to participate in the ‘war’. Otabek gathered his brush and the small paint bucket and readied himself. 

He had a husband to fight for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a lot going on this chapter. A cute paint war and some more info on Phichit's feelings.  
> Also, a new character is introduced! I hope you will have as much for Ekaterina as you have for Medina.  
> ♥


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 16: Otabek arrives at the house for their baby party, but the gang is already busy playing paint tag. He wanders around and checks the rooms, then ends up in the middle of a paint war, before talking to Phichit about his relationship's end.

“Okay. OKAY. I give up!” Yuri raised his hands, then dropped his brush. He was covered in paint from head to toe and Otabek really, really hoped it was non-toxic. “I can’t believe you would gang up on me like that!” 

Otabek offered him a hand to stand. He lost his brush fifteen minutes ago in a vicious sword-fight styled battle with Guang Hong. Nonetheless, he was proud because he had taken Leo out before. No one mentioned just how drunk and tired Leo was, and Otabek was thankful for the lack of rain on his parade. When Yuri finally stood, he glared at Minami, Medina, and Ekaterina. Somehow, the three managed to sneakily either disarm or mark the others, until they were the last people standing. And since they had sworn allegiance to each other, what finished was an almost ritually looking circle-swipe of color against one another’s chests. 

Yuri was livid. He had planned to win this, after all. But it was of no use, Yuri had to admit defeat to the three youngest members of their group. 

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the living room, all cooped together and snuggled up. As predicted, the pristine paint job Chris and Masumi had done was marred by sprinkles of color everywhere, but … Otabek couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. Especially not when everyone had accepted the fate of the wall and pressed themselves against it, transferring their colors. Now, they had a bunch of vaguely human-shaped color blobs behind the sofa, and Otabek could not have been happier. 

The main idea when they furnished the living room was to get enough seating options so everyone could cuddle up and be comfortable without people on the floor. Which resulted in two giant sofas and a few bean bags. They looked like a modern start-up now, but who cared? Everyone finally found a place they enjoyed. 

“Okay,” Yuri started, still red and blue and pink and green. He refused to wash the color off, wore it like a badge of honor, even though it was the opposite. Kind of. They had taken a bunch of photos to hang up later, but by now, most of them looked like humans again instead of canvases. “We gathered you today not just to paint our house. Even though we are really grateful for that.” Otabek nodded along. “We also have great news and we really, really wanted to celebrate with you!” 

The group perked up like a bunch of meerkats. They all knew the test result had come in. Yuri motioned to Mila and Sara, who both beamed. “Well,” Sara grinned at her lover, “I’m glad you all know how to behave like children still because you will soon need that skill!” 

“OH MY GOD, IT WORKED?” Phichit leaned forward, almost crawling onto the girls’ laps. “Which one? Or both?” 

“Both,” Mila confirmed with a wide smile. Loud cheers rang through the house. They hugged and kissed one another, cheeks and the top of each other’s heads before Yuri ran off and brought the muffins. 

This bundle of wild people brought so much energy and joy into Otabek’s life. Before he married Yuri, he thought he had everything. In a way. But now, he realized how absolutely absurd that thought had been. Within a little over two years, his life had flipped entirely. And when Yuri crawled into bed next to him that night, Otabek had to close his eyes for a moment, just to reflect. 

Here he was, in a house full of people he loved and that loved him. He had his husband next to him and a baby on the way. They had a bunch of cats already, stored safely in the new room of Otabek’s sister, who he cherished every day. Medina was in the United States now and could come over whenever she wanted. His company was picking up slowly, and the relationship with their parents was still tense, but much more harmonic than ever before. 

This time, Otabek was sure. He couldn’t be happier. 

\----------

He quickly learned he was wrong. Six weeks after the implantation, Otabek was standing next to his husband, nauseous with excitement. Yuri held his hand, but Otabek felt very much like Yuri was holding all of him upright. 

It was time for the first transvaginal ultrasound to see how their baby was doing, and Mila was already resting on the examination chair, legs spread, and waiting. “Relax. You aren’t getting anything shoved into you.” Yuri looked like he wanted to add something to that but then decided to keep his mouth shut. 

Today, they would hopefully detect the baby’s yolk sac, gestational sac, and, if they were lucky, the heartbeat. The idea of being able to hear that … something so faint and far away yet still so close … it was wild. Somehow, Yuri still looked pretty cool, but Otabek was freaking out inwardly. And if one wanted to believe Mila’s expression, outwardly, too. But who could fault him? He would get the first glimpse of their baby, no matter how small it was. 

The doctor entered soon after, getting ready to insert the ultrasound. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen.” He smiled at the four of them. “Today, your babies are roughly a sixth of an inch from crown to rump. They are curled into a C-shape, and, once the tiny legs form, they will be tucked up under their chin. Your babies will also begin to develop human features now, so I can hopefully soon show you their sweet little faces.” She smiled at Mila and Sara, then turned to Yuri and Otabek to do the same. He appreciated her active efforts to include everyone. “There is also organ growth going on. Kidney, liver, and lungs begin to form this week. And of course—” She nodded at Mila, causing her to spread her legs a little more. “—the little heart is already beating up a storm. We are talking about eighty to a hundred beats per minute.” 

Mila’s hand rested on her stomach, and Otabek twitched a little because, oh boy, he really wanted to touch their baby too, but it was incredibly invasive to simply do so. But noticing his movement, Mila grinned, moved her hand to the side, and nodded. “Come on, daddy. You can touch.” To his absolute mortification, warmth crept into Otabek’s face. That didn’t stop him, though. He reached out and placed his hand on Mila’s stomach, and even though nothing seemed different, he knew there was a baby in it. His baby. Yuri’s hand joined him a second later. 

The doctor was kind enough to give them their moment, then looked up at the two mothers to be. “How are you feeling? Any changes so far?” 

  
“Yeah. I feel bloated all the time.” Sara chuckled. “And I’m constantly running to the toilet. Even at night. Is that normal?” 

“Yes. It’s actually the most common early symptom.” The doctor smiled reassuringly and turned to Mila, one of her hands working beneath a cloth she had tossed over Mila’s lower body to protect her privacy. Mila herself didn't care, she kept telling Otabek and Yuri they would have to get accustomed to her vagina if they wanted to watch the birth, but … the doctor tried. 

“I crave grapefruit. And I hate grapefruit.” Mila shrugged and angled her hips to allow better entry with the ultrasound. “Oh. And I am horny all the time.” She shrugged, unbothered by everyone listening in. 

The doctor blushed a little but smiled. “That might be caused by the increased blood flow to your pelvic area. It raises the sensitivity, which can also heighten sexual pleasure.” 

“So it actually  _ does  _ feel better? I’m not going crazy?” 

“No. It does.” 

“Can I have this all the time?” Sara giggled and shook her head with a fond expression. 

The doctor declined, though. “No … and it’s also related to the need to pee so often. So I am not entirely sure it’s something you would want every day.” 

“Urgh. No. Fuck that.” Mila plopped her head back against the couch. “But I like the bigger boobs, too. I guess they don’t stay for too long, either?” 

“Only until you’re done with breastfeeding.” 

Mila smirked at Yuri and Otabek. “Will you let me keep breastfeeding your spawn so my boobs stay nice?” Yuri stuck out his tongue as an answer. 

“Okay. So other symptoms you might already have or will develop are nausea and vomiting, fatigue, bloating, and gas.” 

“Wohoo, “ Sara added sarcastically. But not much conversation followed afterward because the ultrasound finally seemed to show them … something. 

“There we go.” The doctor turned to Yuri and Otabek. “There is your baby.” And even though he struggled to make out more than just the most basic shapes, Otabek’s brain melted. When she added sound and allowed them to hear the tiny, fast heart, Otabek got dizzy. The world beneath him seemed to slip and tilt. Yui had to support his weight because otherwise, he would have crumbled. 

He heard his baby. There was his baby. 

They checked in on Sara’s baby, too, and at some point, Otabek faintly registered the doctor telling them what to look out for and how to behave, but … none of that got stuck in his brain. Otabek was a mess. Yuri was already texting the pictures of their babies to the family and the gang, but Otabek had to sit down outside of the doctor’s office. No one made fun of him, though, so that was something he was very grateful for. 

But once they were at home, bundled up on the couch in their new house, Otabek finally registered what happened. 

“We’ll have a baby.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And we just heard their heartbeat.” 

“Yeah.” Yuri smiled as if Otabek was the cutest idiot in the world. Maybe he was. 

\----------

_ “I constantly have to pee, my boobs hurt, I’m still vomiting almost all the time, and I could eat a fucking horse, but only if it’s made of rice and ketchup. I look like a basketball, have to fart basically every minute of the day, and when I get up I think I might pass out because I’m so dizzy. And Sara is zero help because she’s stuck with the exact same shit. Why exactly did we think getting pregnant at the same time was a good idea, fuck’s sake?!” _ Mila huffed, rolling her eyes at the webcam.  _ “You guys. You were clever. You outsourced it. Men ain’t shit.” _ Sara cleared her throat and gave her a concerned side-eye until Mila scrambled to correct herself.  _ “Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say you outsourced it because you are lazy or something, I know why you … shit, I’m sorry, Yura.” _ He nodded, but there was tension in Yuri’s shoulders. 

Sara tried to pick up the conversation again, and Otabek was thankful they wouldn’t linger in the uncomfortable mood.  _ “The pregnancy books tell us to pamper ourselves. Do Yoga. Sleep and eat healthily and …” _ She rolled her eyes.  _ “Have they ever met pregnant working women? How am I supposed to do all of that? And before you guys jump down our throats, we are doing everything we can to stay healthy and to ensure the babies are safe. But … honestly with two pregnant people, who fucking carries the groceries? We thought about getting someone for the job, or something, but … that shit is expensive and—” _

“I will.” 

_ “Mhh?” _ Sara looked into the camera as if she had forgotten they were even there. 

“I’ll carry your groceries.” Otabek sat up straighter. “I don’t mind doing it.” 

“You are working full time, cutie. We live in the middle of the city, not suburbia. You can’t come here every day to help out, even if that would be kinda nice.” Mila chuckled. “But thank you for the offer. We will consider it if we need to get a new dishwasher up the stairs or something.” 

Otabek turned to Yuri and muted the microphone. “Please tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking.” 

“The extra rooms,” Yuri agreed. “They’ll have a calmer surrounding, I can take them to uni with me in the morning, we’ll only have to go grocery shopping for one household, and they’ll have two toilets available if they need to vomit. They won’t need to worry about money, I have a study partner and won’t be as alone when you are at work, and … we can actually watch their bellies grow and participate in the process of their pregnancies.” 

Huh. Otabek worried his brows. “You’ve been thinking about this already.” Not a question, a statement. 

“Yeah. But I wanted to talk to you first and it never really came up.” Yuri looked a little guilty. After all, he usually was the one telling Otabek to communicate more. 

“So I can go ahead and ask them to move in?” A nod and Otabek unmuted them. 

The girls looked curious.  _ “Are you going to share your thoughts with us? That conversation seemed interesting.” _

“Move in with us.” Otabek felt like he proposed the offer appropriately, but Yuri slapped his palm against his forehead. His gaze said  _ ‘Really?’ _ when he looked over, so Otabek shrugged and tilted his head at his husband. “Do you want to?” 

Yuri confirmed, then leaned towards the camera. “We have a lot of unused space, we can help with chores and we would like to support you. After all, it is kind of our fault you guys are stuck with … this.” He waved in the direction of the camera. “Besides, both Beka and I would like to actively participate in the process you’re going through.” 

Mila groaned.  _ “Fuck, I thought you would never ask.” _ Her partner seemed shocked, but Yuri laughed immediately. The direct way was something Mila and him both enjoyed about each other.  _ “Let’s rent a truck after the appointment tomorrow and grab what we need. We will definitely move into that beast of a house.” _ She shrugged at Sara, not even giving her the chance to protest. Luckily, Sara didn’t look like she planned to, and Otabek understood why. Their apartment was tiny, and although it was beautiful, things were obviously hard for two pregnant women. 

“Great,” Yuri confirmed before Otabek could say something. “See you tomorrow. We are looking forward to it!” 

\---------

“Maybe today you could try not to pass out?” Yuri smirked and squeezed Otabek’s elbow. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s a little embarrassing if the one strong, masc guy falls over.” He snickered and placed a kiss on Otabek’s cheek, the little rat. 

“I’ll try not to disappoint you too much with my excitement about our kid. Asshole.” 

Yuri answered like a mature adult and stuck out his tongue before he continued to drag Otabek inside the building where they would have their first Ob/Gyn appointment. The girls were eleven weeks into their pregnancy now; it was time for the first-trimester screening. They would get their due date confirmed, and maybe they could listen to the little one’s heartbeat again. Otabek also appreciated the chance to get to know their new doctor and their team better, so he could relax and rely on them doing their job. Yuri kept poking fun at him because he was always a little overly worried, but what chance did a guy have when he understood so little and felt so much concerning the things going on?

He had researched as best as he could. Today would be a blood test and an ultrasound appointment. It was non-invasive and supposed to identify risks for specific chromosomal abnormalities, including Down Syndrome Trisomy-21 and Trisomy-18. They would also be able to identify other significant fetal abnormalities, for example, cardiac disorders. Of course, they hoped the tests would come out clean, but they wouldn’t get the results straight away. 

Mila grinned wide at them and hugged the two men, both in one big, crushing embrace. Sara decided to join and squealed into their ears. “We will look at our babies!” They both appeared to be completely normal, except they were bundled up in wide, long clothes, even though it was summer. Otabek was a little disappointed; after almost three months, he’d hoped to see at least a little baby bump. 

When Mila caught him staring, she smacked his arm with a grin. “Trust me, you can see them already. It’s not much, but I”ve gained weight. I just hide it really well. Oh. And I got boobs, holy shit do I have boobs.” She wiggled her upper body, but Otabek was more transfixed on her tummy. “Oh my god. Gay guys are an adventure. Beka, my boobs are up here.” 

He couldn’t hide the grin as he poked her belly. “My baby is in here.” 

“Well, technically …” Sara patted her own tummy as well, smirking at him. 

It caused Yuri to roll his eyes. Initially, it was his idea to use his partner’s sperm for the girls, but by now, Otabek wasn’t sure anymore if he regretted it. Not because Sara and Mila kept joking about it, they rarely did. But because Otabek’s family wouldn’t stop asking about  _ ‘his other child’ _ , no matter how often Yuri told them with a pressed voice that they legally, technically, had nothing to do with that baby. “She’s caterpillar-sized right now, what kind of baby bump do you expect?” 

“She?” Mila raised an eyebrow, but Yuri shrugged. 

“Yeah.” 

“You seem awfully sure about it.” She was grinning, but Yuri still seemed to be a little miffed. 

“The baby is very much allowed to prove me wrong. It’s just the feeling I have right now.” Turning to the side, Yuri looked down the hallway. “Where are we supposed to go?” 

“The waiting room.” He gave a thumbs-up and began to walk forward. “What is going on with Yurochka?” Mila turned to look at Otabek, one of her hands falling onto her abdomen, probably without conscious thought. Cute. 

Otabek began to follow his husband, confident the girls would in turn walk after him. “I don’t know. He doesn’t like the implication that your baby is my baby, I guess. My parents …” 

“Oooooh.” Mila nodded. “Makes sense. Yeah. Sorry.” Sara apologized, too, but it felt wrong in a way. It wasn’t their fault, after all. 

When they reached the waiting room, Yuri was already sitting on one of the metal chairs, phone in hand. Otabek settled next to him and tugged his husband against his shoulder. He wanted to say something comforting, but by now Otabek had learned that sometimes silent support was more helpful. And the way Yuri tucked his nose against his neck and sighed told him he had been right to keep his mouth shut. 

“Sorry.” 

“S’okay.” A kiss to the top of Yuri’s head and a smile, followed by a kiss to his nose. That seemed to help lighten his mood considerably. Otabek tried to distract himself from the waiting by looking around. The walls were colorful, which was nice, and there were toys strewn over the floor. A small bookcase stood in the corner and a very pregnant mother was currently reading to a toddler. Otabek listened, not even realizing he had closed his eyes. The head on his shoulder got heavier, too. 

“You two didn’t get much sleep, hmm?” Mila whispered her words, probably not to wake them if they had actually fallen asleep. Instead of a coherent answer, she received a thumbs-up. 

Almost thirty minutes later, the snickering women jostled them awake. “Come on, boys. Time to meet your baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go with all the baby talk some people have been waiting for! There is so much info here, I hope I'm not boring you.   
> But their journey is so exciting, isn't it? AAHHH! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> > Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


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